Prey
by realeyesfantasize
Summary: Behind a painted smile lies secrets many wish to keep. A modern nightmare. Warning: drug use and sexual situations some might find uncomfortable.
1. Chapter 1

**boy**

Every house has its own distinct smell. This one smells like sandalwood and soft ocean spray, a complete juxtaposition to the last. That one smelled like pine needles and Christmas.

Like the rest, this one is built with large bones. My room is bigger than it's ever been – a cavernous maw slathered in cool gray tones. I survey it with pursed lips. My queen bed is dwarfed by the emptiness.

Mom will most likely get me a whole new furniture set to fill up all of the space. I don't mind, as long as I can keep my desk. It's warm and worn, and has been in my family for generations. There's nothing like the connection that I feel to my ancestors as I share their old workspace.

Grasping my backpack, I hastily unzip and dig through to find my notebook. Worse-for-wear, but tenderly loved, it contains everything that is _me_. Thumbing through, I find a blank page and begin to scratch out my first entry in the new house – new town, new state, new life.

 _Ode to a Cardboard Box_

 _O'lovely cardboard box, what treasures do you_

 _hide? All that is my world, you carry inside._

 _Stuffed to the brim, and bent to extreme, you are_

 _The best of our team._

 _From here, to there, despite inclement weather, you_

 _have mostly fared. Brown and square, with splotches there_

 _And there. Packing tape gives way, and with a big_

 _Sigh you say, "good day."_

 _So out comes my old trophies and medals, all_

 _Crumpled together between sheets of the news._

 _Hands grasp and tear, packing peanuts fly everywhere._

 _Sweep? Maybe later._

 _Now we are all done. Unpacking is never_

 _Fun. Especially for the box. That always_

 _Gets the toss. Pressed down into the trash, with last_

 _Night's greasy old mess._

* * *

 **Hi guys - happy Holidays! I hope you enjoy my new fic! Chapters will be short (~500 words) and I will be updating twice a week. Let me know in the comments what you think!**

 **xo**


	2. Chapter 2

**girl**

"I see you," he murmurs, smile wide.

The sun beats down on us, baking my skin. I'm already baked, like Lays.

"I see you," I repeat, lips softly pressing the words forward. They come out breathy, dreamy. My smile stretches, gets trapped under my front teeth. Lashes flutter close, covering dilated pupils as my body folds and uncoils in a lazy cat stretch.

"You didn't use sunscreen, did you?" His fingers gently press the skin on my warm shoulders. A giggle bubbles up from my gut. Head shaking, I twist myself until I'm pressed against his warm chest.

"Nobody wears that stuff."

His answering laugh is soft, exasperated. "I should take you home."

My eyes are open now. He's staring down at me, propped up on his elbow. Light filters down through the gaps in his soft, sun-bleached hair. His eyes are like the ocean – open, deep, and so, so blue. "No," I smile, walking my fingers playfully up his tanned bicep. "Not yet."

His eyes sweep my face, tongue reaching out to wet his pink bottom lip. He wants to kiss me. I want him to, too. My hand curves around the back of his neck, fingers tangling in salt-stiff tresses. "Someone might see," his words say worry, his eyes say want.

I pull him closer, lifting my chest to press against his. "I don't care."

His sigh is heavy against my lips. I can practically taste the mint he ate earlier. "I can get into a lot of trouble for this." He knows this, yet he's still leaning over me, staring at my mouth, my chest, my legs. I've already won.

"It's just a kiss, Jasper." I reason, shifting my face so our noses touch. "I promise I won't tell anyone."

He gives in. Our mouths fuse together in a warm, salty kiss. The first one is gentle, apprehensive. The second is hungry. I'm gathered into his arms and held against his chest as he consumes me.

"You're trouble," he pants against my mouth. I am. He knows this. Basically, the whole school knows it.

' _A senior has no business with a sophomore,'_ Riley – my older brother by two years – always tells me. He's heard the rumors, the whisperings. He knows it's all true, though he does try to prevent it from happening. He has threatened to pummel any guy that touches me. Although wary of potential bodily harm, I have been touched… many times.

"Please," I gasp into Jasper's mouth, "touch me."

His soft hands curl into fists against my back. "Not here," he murmurs against my mouth. Seconds later, I'm yanked to my feet and towed to his truck.

Seniors may have no business with me, but _I_ sure do have business with _them_.

* * *

 **Hi all - thank you so much for the positive reaction to the first chapter. This story will be quite a bit different than Hallway, as the situation or problem won't be presented right away. Buuuut as you are most likely gathering from this chapter, this Bella is very similar to Hallway's Bella (i.e. highly flawed). However, I promise there is a legitimate reason behind her actions, which will be revealed as the story unfolds.**

 **I know I said twice a week updates... but now I'm really excited! So I will now be posting daily on the weekdays. Let me know what you think in the comments!**

 **xo**


	3. Chapter 3

**boy**

Summer is by far the worst time to move. I prefer mid-year, when school is in full swing, so that friends are instantaneous.

There's something illustrious about being the new kid. Something that makes everyone look past any obvious flaws and go "oh, he's hot," or "oh, he's cool," or "sit with us at lunch." That's what I like most about my dad's job – moving all the time. Most kids in my position would grow resentful. I don't really mind. By now, making friends has become nearly effortless.

That makes me sound lazy, which I'm not. I guess I've just grown used to it – the ease of it all. It's routine for me now. I'm just like that. I've always tried to find the best in shitty situations.

But now there's a month standing between me and instant friends. And this house is so big and quiet, eerily so. I entertain myself by wandering the halls, trying to find something, anything that isn't cookie-cutter perfect. I always come up short.

After a few days of this, I force myself outside. The backyard is straight out of _Better Homes and Gardens_. Mom has been busy.

The pool is fluorescent blue. The surrounding tiles are bright, terracotta. I slump onto a plush outdoor recliner. It smells new, plastic-y. Tilting my head back, I observe the sky. Bright blue – as always – with a smattering of translucent, fluffy clouds.

The silence is like a pesky mosquito, buzzing incessantly in my ears. I sigh and cover my eyes with my forearm. This is going to be the longest month of my life.

The sound of a door slamming next door breaks through my melodrama. Dropping my arm, I listen as the sound of pure, child-like laughter floats over the fence that separates our houses. Moments later, the laughter is interspersed with loud creaks and squeaks.

"Hey!" A clear voice calls out. I glance back up at the sky. At least someone is having fun.

"Hey, you!" The voice cries again.

Startled, I sit up and glance toward the fence. My mouth immediately drops open at the sight. Despite its obvious height, two very blonde heads peer down at me from over the fence.

"Hey!" The one on the left cries.

"What are you doing?" The other calls.

"Nothing." I tell them. "Be careful, guys. That fence is tall."

"Not it's not," Right twin sasses.

"We climb it all the time." Left says frankly.

"Who are you anyways?" Right demands.

"That was Mrs. Lowe's house." Left tells me.

"She died." Right chirps.

"I'm Edward." I say. "This is my dad's house now."

"A stranger," left tells right.

"Yeah," right sighs.

"We hafta go now," left shrugs, showing me a gap-toothed smile.

"Bye!" Right chirps before they drop down to their side of the fence.

Instant friends?

* * *

 **Hi all - I am so overwhelmed by the support these first chapters have received! Thank you all so much! This is going to be a long, bumpy ride so I hope you all can stick with me through it! (:**

 **See you all tomorrow! (:**

 **xo**


	4. Chapter 4

**girl**

You'll float, too …

At least that's what the crude, red paint on the ceiling tells me. I smile faintly as I read it again and again. Float, that's what I want. Weightlessness. Everyone knows that's what James serves. People come here looking for it – myself included. It has me coming back, always, looking for more and more and more and more.

"Busy little bee," James murmurs, sitting down heavily on the bed beside me. "Back again so soon?"

"Mmm," I hum in confirmation. My eyes trace the letters again and again. Those words always seemed misplaced to me in the book and movie, but here… here they belong.

"The usual?" He murmurs, fingers combing gently through my hair. I peer up at him through sleepy eyes, tracing the contours of his rugged, handsome face.

"Surprise me," I sigh, turning my face into his hand encouragingly.

He hums thoughtfully before jumping off the bed. Seconds later, he's back. Soft fingers urge my mouth open. Lips parted, I accept the pill he drops onto my tongue.

"Half an hour," James murmurs, stroking my chin, "and you'll be feeling good."

"Good," I sigh. We sit in silence for a moment as he traces my features. The pads of his fingers are rough. I imagine hours upon hours of hard labor put those calluses there.

"You're so pretty…" His hands stray from my face, fluttering down my throat to my shoulders, my chest. "So… perfect." His hands cup my ribcage. "I don't know why you keep coming back here."

My fingers walk up his arm, finding purchase at the back of his head. "For you," I murmur, tugging his face down to mine. Our lips meet as a familiar heat blooms in my belly.

"Bella," he sighs against my mouth as he presses his body down on mine. My fingers slide through the fine hair at his nape. His hips press my legs open.

"Please," I gasp against his throat, grasping the back of his shirt and dragging it up. My eyes drop to feast on miles of warm, tattooed skin and washboard abs. His knuckles brush against me as his unbuckles his pants. My dress is pushed up under my pits in his haste to have me, consume me.

The pill pops in my stomach the moment he enters me. Limbs like lead and pupils blown out, I give in as the plush mattress swallows me whole. My skin heats, erupting in tiny pin-pricks, tingles. My ears buzz, brain sputtering and glitching – trying to keep up with the cacophony of thoughts that burst forth in my skull. I am electricity. I am feeling itself. My world melts, turning to molten color and blurring together with the push and pull of my body.

The red letters melt and reform, staring down at me through it all.

Float.

Float.

Float.

* * *

 **So... that's Bella! What do we think?**

 **As always, thank you all for the support (: I very much appreciate it! Look out for my next update on Monday and have an amazing weekend/New Year!**

 **xo j**


	5. Chapter 5

**boy**

Something about the pool deck calls to me. Maybe it's the warmth. Maybe it's the openness. But it's now become my routine.

I don't even get into the pool. I just sit out here, under the sun, and make shapes in the clouds. Needless to say, I'm mind-numbingly bored.

"Hey!" the familiar shout comes just moments after my neighbor's back door slams close. Glancing up, I spy two blonde heads peeking at me from over the fence.

"Hey," I call back.

"You goin' swimmin'?" Left twin asks, arms hanging limply over the wooden boards.

"Nah."

"Why you out here?" Right twin's face crinkles in confusion.

"Dunno…" I murmur, staring up at the sun. "It's nice out."

"You should go swimmin'." Left twin insists. "Mrs. Lowe never used to go swimmin'. Dad always said she put this nice pool to waste!"

"You should." Right twin affirms.

"Maybe tomorrow." I shrug.

"Do you know how?" Left inquires.

"Yeah, do you?" I sit up, palming my hair into submission.

"Duh," Right twin scoffs. "We learned when we were babies."

"We're not babies anymore." Left clarifies, grinning.

"I'm Peter," right grins. "That's Garrett."

"We're twins, if you didn't know." Garrett tells me frankly.

"That's cool," I smile, glancing back at the clouds.

"What grade are you in?" Peter asks.

"Yeah," Garrett interjects. "What grade?"

"Eleventh."

"Cool!" Peter shrieks.

"We're in first." Garrett nods, grinning proudly.

"Definitely not babies," I smile. They grin back, showing off missing teeth.

A movement over their heads draws my attention away. The second floor of their house is lined with wide, clear windows – so clear, you can see right through them into the room that lies beyond. A flash of one long, pale, bare leg draws my eyes to the rightmost window of the house. The leg extends, flexes, and drops slowly onto the bed its owner reclines against.

"- and, and we love baseball!" Peter finishes, flashing me a toothy grin.

"So do I," I mutter, glancing back at the beguiling window. The owner of the long leg now stands with her back to me. She's tall, willowy with long, shapely legs. My eyes greedily drink her in as she flips her silvery, white hair over her shoulder and strides out of the room.

"- teach us sometime because dad's always too busy and Riley doesn't know how to hit because he's a pitcher."

"Sure," the words flow past my lips.

The boys sport matching toothless grins. I smile in return, mind conjuring the image of the girl in the window.

"Tomorrow?" Garrett asks, eyes wide, hopeful.

"Yeah," I shrug.

"Okay!" Peter grins, cheeks pink with excitement. "Come teached us over here… and then we goin' swimmin' in your pool!"

A flicker of movement draws my attention back to that window. It's open now, and the girl is back – sitting cross-legged on the floor.

"Yeah," I agree, lips numb and mouth dry.

Tomorrow.

* * *

 **Hi everyone! I hope you all had a great new year! I've been seeing a lot of questions re: Bella. No, she's not a prostitute haha she's just a very promiscuous teen. She's also - as some of you have gathered - going through a lot. Hence the atrocious behavior. There IS a reason for that, which will be revealed later on.**

 **That aside... What do we think of Edward? Let me know in the comments!**

 **See you tomorrow!**

 **xo j**


	6. Chapter 6

**girl**

"Where are you going?" Phil's voice follows me as I float down the stairs.

"To the beach," I murmur, halting my retreat and swinging my eyes up to where he's leaning casually against the banister. He's all crinkled forehead, worried dad. The look doesn't work for him.

"With whom?" His brows raise, blue eyes daring me to lie.

"Jessica," my shoulders drop, portraying honesty. "Her mom's here to pick me up."

Phil's eyes narrow, most likely trying to detect any hint of a lie in my voice, in my body language. After a moment, he sighs. "Will you be back for dinner?"

My throat constricts as I swallow. Glancing away, I shrug. "Maybe."

"Well… shoot me a text if you're not going to make it."

"Yeah, okay." The stairs creak faintly as I continue my descent.

"Isabella?" Phil calls again, thundering down the stairs as he follows me. "Here, take this." His fingers brush mine as he hands me a wad of cash. It's heavy in my palm. An image of me being dragged down into darkened depths by this heavy wad flashes behind my lids. I shake my head and refocus, prying my lips open in a smile. "Dana Stanley has already done so much for this family. The least we can do is pick up the tab at lunch." His smile is soft, genuine.

I rip my eyes away and swallow back the emotion that wells in my throat. "Of course." I hope the smile I paint across my face doesn't read as fake as it feels. "That's really great of you."

Phil grins back and squeezes my shoulder reassuringly. "Sure."

My eyes trace over him once before I turn to leave. He's dressed casually in lounge pants and a fitted hoodie. Not working on a Tuesday. That's strange for him.

"Isabella?" He calls again, once I've reached the front door. The soft pads of his footsteps follow me until he's standing in the archway of our foyer. They make me unnecessarily flinch. I need to relax. I need to smoke. "Don't forget to use sunscreen."

I throw him a smile and a nod over my shoulder before slipping outside. Breathing deeply, I hesitate a moment before shutting the door firmly behind me. Chewing my lip, I mentally remove the mask I wear whilst at home and don the one I wear with everyone else.

"Hey!" Jess calls out of the passenger window. "What took you so long?"

"Phil," I shrug, shouldering my beach bag and floating down the front steps to the driveway.

"Unf!" Jess moans, fanning her face. "That man is delicious. You hit the Step-Dad jackpot, Bell!"

"As I've heard," I breathe, sliding into the backseat. "Phil was kind enough to buy our lunch." I wave the wad of cash in the space between Jess and Dana's seats.

"Keep it," Dana waves the cash away, glancing over her shoulder as she backs out of our driveway. "I already made you girls sandwiches."

"You're the best." I grin, dropping the cash into my bag.

"As I've heard." Dana parrots, flashing me a cheeky grin.

A thread of longing wraps around my heart. This is what a mother's love should feel like. Ache blooms within me at the realization that this is as close to it as I'll ever get.

* * *

 **Hi all - happy Tuesday! Some insight into Bella's mind? What do we think? Let me know in the comments!**

 **As always, I totally appreciate the love and support! See you guys tomorrow!**

 **xo j**


	7. Chapter 7

**boy**

Every night is the same, no matter what house we're in.

Mom starts dinner at four. Dad arrives at six-thirty on-the-dot to a piping hot plate of food. They kiss, he musses my hair, and we sit down to a meal. Now seating: big-happy-family party of three.

I slide into my seat at the dinner table at six-twenty-five. As always, Mom has outdone herself. Steak and potatoes are piled high. Green beans are optional.

Dad strides through the door five minutes later. He drops his briefcase in hall before ducking into the kitchen, kissing Mom, and ambling into the dining room.

"Hello, Son." Dad smiles, teeth gleaming white. "What did you write today?"

"Not much." I shrug.

"Oh, I'm sure you're being modest." He ruffles my hair playfully as he passes behind my chair.

"Ed, hon," Mom calls, peeking her head around the archway that separates the kitchen and dining room. "Red or white wine?"

"White." Dad answers, adjusting his place setting. "School starts soon, right?"

"Two weeks." I answer, full-well knowing he knows the answer. He never asks about something he doesn't already know. _'All part of the business'_ he once told me.

"Two weeks." He repeats, whistling. "My only son… a junior."

"That's right." I purse my lips, wondering where this line of conversation is going.

"Boy, time does fly." Dad peers at me thoughtfully.

"It does." Mom smiles, carrying two wine glasses. "It feels like you were in diapers just yesterday."

My eyes roll skyward at her exclamation. "I know – I have a problem. I promise I'll use the bathroom before going to bed from now on."

"Oh!" Mom laughs, taken aback by my joke. "You goof!" She swats at me playfully before taking her seat.

"Thank you, honey, for this fantastic meal." Dad grins, capturing her hand in his. "As always, excellent work. I wish I could work a grill like you."

"It's a gift," Mom grins flirtatiously. I hold back my moan of disgust. "By all means, help yourselves. I cooked, I'm not going to serve you, too!"

At Mom's urging, Dad and I start filling our plates. "So, I heard you met Phil Dwyer's boys." Dad says conversationally as he passes me the mashed potatoes.

"Sure," I shrug, ladling a heathy amount onto my plate.

"Baseball lessons, huh?" Dad continues, peering over at me as he cuts into his steak.

"I decided to share my talents."

"Hm," Dad hums thoughtfully. "How much is Phil paying you?"

"I'm doing this out of the kindness of my heart." I respond, scowling.

"Sure," Dad nods, smiling faintly. "This doesn't have anything to do with Phil's step-daughter, does it?"

My interest is immediately piqued, but I resist the bait. "What step-daughter? I've only met the twins."

"Mhm," Dad hums, slowly chewing his food. "A sophomore. Pretty thing. Popular with the boys, he says."

"Never heard of her."

"Hm," Dad continues. "I'd be careful if I were you. That one's trouble."

* * *

 **Hi all - happy hump day! Trouble, huh? Sounds less like a warning and more like bait for teenage boys haha! What do you guys think? Let me know in the comments!**

 **As always, thanks so much for the love! I'll see you all tomorrow (:**

 **xo j**


	8. Chapter 8

**girl**

Serenity is the beach. Rolls and rolls of turquoise. Frothing, lapping, and crashing against the sand. My chest expands and sucks salty air into my lungs. I tilt my face into the sun, tanning my hide like a lazy cat in a windowsill.

"This is shaping up to be the summer of fucking sin!" Jess cries from beside me, falling back into the sand. Her arm extends, offering me the joint pinched between her fingers.

"Hm," I hum, pressing the joint between my lips and inhaling deeply. "Sinning is winning." The smoke curls around my face as I exhale.

"I saw cars at your neighbor's house." Jess comments, fingers combing lazily through the sand.

"Sure," I shrug, "new neighbors."

"And?" Jess presses. "Anyone interesting?"

"Don't know," I sing. "Don't care."

"What if it's a boy?" Jess asks, eyes bright with excitement.

"What if?" I mutter, taking another hit.

"I mean, what if it's a cute boy?" Jess continues, grabbing the joint from my hand and pressing it between her lips. "How fucking rad would that be?"

"I don't want another boy," I mutter, falling back against the sand. "I need a man."

"Ew," Jess laughs, wiggling her toes into my thigh. "I heard Lauren's parents just got divorced. Her dad's single now, if you want!" She collapses in a fit of hysterical giggles.

"You're vile." I frown, swallowing back disgust. Closing my eyes, I breathe deeply and tilt my head back. The warmth of the sun kisses my cheeks. I wish we could stay here forever, being high, lazy cats. But I can't. So, I dust the sand off my ass and follow Jess to her mom's waiting car.

Duty calls in the form of family dinner.

Dinner at the Dwyer's – it should be a reality TV series.

Ms. Cope, our cook, housekeeper, nanny, pseudo-mom, fill-in-the-blank, has dinner on the table promptly at six. Those that are home are drawn to the dining room by the smell. Almost always, at least one of us is missing. Today is one of those rare occasions that we're all present. Cameras roll in three, two, one…

"School starts in two weeks." Phil's voice cuts through the silence. We all glance up at him, forks midway to our mouths. "Do you all have the supplies that you need?"

"Yeah," Riley shrugs. "Kitty picked them up for us last week."

"Uh, good." Phil nods, shooting Ms. Cope a gracious smile from across the table. Riley prefers to call everyone by their first names. He claims that it makes people more comfortable around him, but we all know he does it to infuriate Phil.

We all fall into silence, each of us shoveling food into our mouths in order to avoid speaking to each other. Well, everyone but mom, who sits dazedly at Phil's elbow, pushing the food around her plate with her fork. She says her new antidepressants kill her appetite, but we all know she's been starving herself for years.

"We gon' learn baseball tomorrow." Garrett blurts, bursting the silent bubble that had started to form around us.

"Oh, yeah, buddy?" Riley asks, grin widening.

"Yeah, from Edward."

"Cool." Riley nods, taking a pull from his glass. He and I make eye contact from across the table. _'Friend of yours?'_ his eyes ask. _'Nah'_ mine answer.

"Who?" Mom cuts in. Her voice is shrill from disuse and slurred around the edges. Her eyes are wide, wild as they bounce from person-to-person at the dinner table.

"The young man that just moved in next door." Ms. Cope supplies, voice casting a soothing blanket over mom's tense shoulders.

"Yes, he's a very nice young man." Phil clarifies. "His father is an old friend of mine. Great family. He's a good role model to have around for the boys." Phil's eyes shift momentarily to Riley, who clenches his fists and shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

"I'm quite envious," Phil continues. "Ed must be so proud to have a teenage son that isn't an utter disappointment." He twists the knife.

Instantly, the energy in the room shifts. Riley's jaw clenches, knuckles whiten. My lip finds its way between my teeth. The urge to do something, to step in, tickles my conscience. I can't help but scratch it.

"There's a party tomorrow." I blurt. "Can I go?"

Phil's eyes swing my way. I'm pinned to my seat by deep, fathomless blue. Everyone else in the room fades away as his eyes narrow. My throat constricts. "Why would you even ask that, Isabella?" Phil's face crinkles with confusion. "The answer is, and always will be, the same. No. A fifteen-year-old has no place at a party."

"Okay," I mutter, dropping my head, projecting shame. "I'm sorry that I asked."

Riley's foot nudges mine under the table in thanks. He has no idea how much the gesture means to me after what I've just done for him.

I hold that small comfort in my heart.

* * *

 **Hi all - a bit of a longer one for you today! Phil's pretty harsh, huh? Let me know what you guys think in the comments (:**

 **We'll get to see some more of Edward tomorrow (: See you guys then!**

 **xo j**


	9. Chapter 9

**boy**

"Hey!" Peter grins, peeking his head over the fence at ten-thirty – like clockwork. "You gonna come over?"

"Sure," I shrug, unfolding myself from the lounge chair I'd occupied for the past ten minutes. Nothing better to do, really.

"Come to the front," Garrett instructs. "We'll let you in."

Following their directions, I skirt around my house, duck out of the front gate, and cut through their front lawn. I am immediately intercepted by two wild-eyed, ruddy-cheeked blondes.

"You're tall." Peter murmurs, staring up at me through wide eyes.

"Yeah," I chuckle, following them through the gate and into their backyard. "You sure it's okay with your parents?"

"Duh!" Garrett scoffs. "My daddy knows your daddy so we're not strangers no more."

"Yeah," Peter confirms.

"Okay," I shrug. Good enough for me.

I run them through a few warm ups before we start on some throwing drills. The boys follow my direction eagerly, listening intently to every critique and smiling widely at each praise. I work with them for about an hour straight before we're interrupted by the sound of the back door swinging open.

"Daddy!" Peter shrieks, streaking across the lawn to wrap himself around a tall, blonde man in his early forties. Garrett quickly follows suit.

"Boys," their father chuckles. "Alright, alright, I need to head out soon." Despite their father's wishes, the boys cling to him relentlessly. "I hope they've been behaving for you, Edward."

"Sure," I shrug. "They're good."

"Good." He grins, palming the back of each boy's head lovingly. "I don't think we've been properly introduced – I'm Phil Dwyer."

"Edward." I murmur, taking his proffered hand.

"Thanks for doing this, Edward. I really appreciate you taking the time to help out with the boys." After a moment of looking me over, he continues. "I would have asked Riley to do this, but my step-son tends to get… distracted by his social life."

"It's no problem," I shrug, pressing the toe of my sneaker into the dirt.

"Anyway… I left some money on the counter for lunch in case you boys want to order some pizza. Have fun today, kids." Phil smiles, clapping me on the back before ducking inside.

Movement in the rightmost window draws my attention away from Phil's retreating form. It's the girl, clad in tiny shorts and tank, staring down at us from her second-floor bedroom. My stomach does a nose-dive and twists in acknowledgement of her presence.

"Who is that?" I feel my mouth asking without my permission. The boys don't even have to turn and look, the smiles on their faces tell me they know.

"That's Bella." Garrett says.

"She's our sister." Peter clarifies.

Trouble has a name.

* * *

 **Hi all! So, Edward's had Bella sighting #2! What was she doing standing in the window? And what do we think about Phil? There's quite a bit of contrast between chapter 8 Phil and chapter 9 Phil.**

 **Next we'll get some more insight into Bella's beautifully broken mind. I'm hoping that as the story progresses, you all will start to understand and like her more and more. See you all on Monday (:**

 **xo j**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hi everyone - I hope you all are enjoying your Monday night. Anyone watching the College Football National Championship? If so, who do you think is going to win? I'm an ACC girl, so naturally I'm disturbed by it being two SEC teams. Buuuuuut everyone hates Bama (including me), so go Dawgs? I hope I didn't just curse Georgia. If so - I'm sorry in advance! Anyway - hope you all enjoy chapter 10. I'll catch you all on the flip side (:**

 **girl**

I wake with a start, disoriented. Shifting in my sheets, I realize, belatedly, that my clothes are damp. Understanding filters slowly through my sleep-addled brain. Cursing, I twist out of bed and begin tearing off the soiled sheets.

My mind whirrs. Many emotions crash down on me. Confusion. Shame. Sadness. Disbelief. I haven't wet the bed since… I can't remember. It's been a while. Bunching the sheets up in a ball, I drop them by my door and begin shucking off my pajamas.

Naked and shivering, I toss my soiled clothes on top of the sour-smelling bundle and step into my bathroom. My fingers shake as I crank my shower to life, turning the knob all the way to the right. Wiping the sleep and shame and sadness from my face, I step into the scalding spray.

My body takes only a few seconds to get over the initial shock from the heat. The white-hot stream curls around my limbs, unknotting my aching, tense muscles. Gasping, I turn my face into the punishing spray. Steam surrounds me as I slide to the floor. Knees to my chest, I curl in on myself.

The world presses in around me as I slowly count backwards from 100. It takes longer than usual, and I have to restart a few times, but I finally slow my breaths enough to stand. Rising to my feet, I twist the shower knob sharply to the left and begin my shower routine.

Five minutes later, I emerge. Bright red and outwardly clean, I dress quickly and make my way downstairs. The house is silent, save for the sound of the TV blaring from Riley's room. My feet carry me down the stairs, finding a destination once my nose picks up the scent of freshly brewed coffee. My beeline, however, comes to a screeching halt when I spy the sole occupant of the kitchen.

I think about ducking out, going unnoticed, but the squeak I involuntarily emit blows my cover. Phil immediately glances up from the newspaper he has spread out on the kitchen island.

"Good morning, Isabella."

"Morning." My response is quick, polite as I force my feet to finish their journey. Hands that are not mine pull a mug from the cupboard. They're steady as they pour a steaming cup of coffee. Even steadier as they guide that cup to my lips. Liquid fire rips its way down my throat.

"Ms. Cope has strict orders to keep you on the premises." Phil murmurs, gazing at me coolly. "You will not be attending that party, Isabella."

"Understood." My voice is dead, emotionless. _'There is no party,'_ I want to tell him. _'I made it all up, you psychopath.'_ I don't. What's the point? The damage is already done.

"You will be present for dinner later tonight." He tells me, arms folding across his chest.

I sharply tear my eyes away, lest I notice how his fitted button down stretches across the firm muscles of his chest. I can't. I won't. I hate him. "Sure."

"You _will_ be in a better mood by then." Phil sighs, brushing by me as he begins to gather his briefcase and jacket. "I need to jet. The boys are out back for their baseball lesson. You _will_ be on your best behavior while our guest is here." Another statement, demand.

"Sure."

Phil fixes me with a penetrating stare, eyes momentarily dropping to survey my outfit. "Put on some clothes." Is his parting comment before he's stepping outside to bid his golden children farewell.

Scowling, I am torn in two. One side wants to fly under the radar, submit. I'm already on Phil's shit list, so it's the sensible thing to do. The other side screams for rebellion. Rage. Rage. Rage. Destroy it all. Burn it to the ground.

I swallow it down.

My feet carry me upstairs, to my room. It should feel like a sanctuary, but it doesn't. Instead, I feel raw, exposed standing beside my stripped bed. The wall-to-wall windows framed by sheer drapery don't help.

The sound of Phil's voice filters up through the windows from below. He sounds happy, pleasant. My feet can't carry me to the window fast enough, tripping over nothing in my haste. I feel sick as I press my forehead against the cool glass to observe the interaction below.

Phil is every bit smiling father. The twins eat it up, just like you'd expect six-year-olds with an absentee father to act. I want to walk away, to look away, to forget, to be anywhere but here. I don't do that, though. It's like I can't look away. I'm hypnotized by the falsity, the show of it all. Phil is really laying it on thick for this Edward guy.

Edward – my eyes momentarily bounce to him. Tall, brunette, athletic build. He keeps his head down as he toes the dirt with a well-worn sneaker. His body language screams discomfort, which seems strange in this situation as Phil's doting father act is undefeated.

The discomfort vanishes the moment Phil ducks inside. Edward's shoulders raise, as does his head, and it's like his eyes are immediately drawn up to me. Our eyes lock and I'm drowning in green, green, green.

Brow furrowing and lips pursing in a soft, timid smile, Edward palms the back of his neck before lifting his hand in a shy wave. Stomach churning, the realization that this is the most genuine, friendly interaction I've had with a male in a very, very long time dawns on me.

Immediately, I jerk myself away from the window as if I've been burnt. Gasping, I wrap my arms around my middle and stagger out of sight – into the closet. My legs give out as an unfamiliar feeling twists in my gut. Something wicked… something closer to pain than pleasure. I don't like it, I decide.

And I _definitely_ don't like Edward.

* * *

 **Boyyyy, that was a rough one. What do you guys think? Any theories about what's going on here? Whatever it is, it's definitely bad.**

 **As always, thanks to everyone that has rec'd, reviewed, favorited, and followed this little lovechild of a story of mine. I really appreciate all of the love. It definitely makes putting myself and my work out there worthwhile.** **At this point, school has started back up and I'm super busy between teaching, grad classes, and working on my gifted endorsement so updates will be reduced from five to at least twice a week. Writing is something that I really enjoy, so I'd rather not add it to the long ass list of things that stress me out. (: That being said, expect the next update to roll out on Thursday.**

 **Again, thank you guys so much for the support. I really appreciate it and I hope you all can stick with me while I bob-and-weave my way through the rest of the school year. Excuse me while I wipe the digital sweat off my brow! Whew!**

 **xo j**


	11. Chapter 11

**boy**

Bella.

Vaguely, I remember that the word means 'beautiful' in several foreign languages. And she is – very beautiful. With silvery-white strands falling over her shoulders in wet clumps and long, sinewy limbs, she is absolutely otherworldly. And when her narrow, feline-like eyes fall on me, I am paralyzed.

Our eyes lock for what seems like an eternity, but what must be mere seconds. My stomach bottoms out, swirling and twisting with unmistakable "butterfly" gut. Absolutely hypnotized, I tentatively raise my hand and wave in her direction.

Her face, which was once soft, smooth, contemplative, immediately changes in reaction to my attempted interaction. Nose scrunching and lip curling, she recoils in what can only be described as disgust. Spell broken, I watch as she quickly turns away and disappears from sight.

Sighing, I drop my shoulders in defeat and shuck my hands through my hair. Great job, Edward. You really blew that one. Glancing over my shoulder, I check to see if there are any witnesses to my failure. I'm relieved to see that the twins are utterly engrossed, using their baseball bats to play swordfight.

"I think that's enough for today, guys." I tell them, still simmering in my mortification. They both drop their bats and emit identical whines of disappointment. "I'm sorry, guys," I continue. "I need to help my mom with something."

I'm lying, but they don't need to know that. It's just that I'd rather not stick around and risk another awkward interaction with Bella.

I'm a coward.

Waving goodbye, I take the path around their house and push open the front gate. I can't get out of there fast enough when I spy a black SUV idling in the driveway. So much for avoiding awkward interactions.

Frowning, I duck my head and turn toward my house. Only a few feet of grass separate me and solitude. I can make it – I think.

And then the Dwyer's front door slams. Instantly, I wince and hurriedly begin crunching through the grass. If I can just make it to my gate I can avoid further embarrassment.

But, of course, no such luck exists in this cruel universe.

"Hey!" A voice calls after me, followed by the sound of fast, heavy footfalls approaching. "Wait up, man."

My breath leaves me in an exasperated sigh. I can't fucking win today. Pivoting, I face my interceptor. It's a guy, around my age, with long, shaggy brown hair and a wide, dimpled grin.

"Edward, right?" He says, coming to a stop in front of me.

"Yeah," I nod, awkwardly shoving my hands into my back pockets.

"Nice," he murmurs, bobbing his head. "Riley Swan," he tells me, extending his hand and flashing dimples. "Just wanted to welcome you to the 'hood."

"Cool," I stutter, giving him a firm shake. "Yeah, uh, thanks."

"You play baseball?" He asks, shaking out his hair and folding his arms over his chest.

"Uh, yeah," is my intelligent response.

Grinning, Riley nods. "Cool, cool." We stand in silence for a moment, sizing each other up. My feet shuffle awkwardly as I glance from him, to the ground, to the sky, and back again. If he had any sort of motive behind talking to me, it is certainly not apparent in this interaction.

"Um, yeah," I mutter, attempting a smile. "I guess I'll see you around?"

"Sure," Riley nods.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I turn to make my escape. I'm almost through my gate when the sound of Riley's voice stops me. Pushing the door open wider, I push my head through the opening and frown. "What was that?"

"Find me at school Monday," Riley repeats. "I can introduce you to some of the guys on the team." After a beat, he shrugs. "Being the new kid is hard, man. My family moved here when I was in middle school, after my mom married Phil. It took me a while to get acclimated, find new friends. I, uh, wish someone had helped me out… back then."

"Oh," I mouth, at a loss for words. "Uh, thanks, man." Riley nods in response, smiling. "I'll do that."

"Cool," Riley says, slapping his hands against his thighs. "See you Monday."

"Yeah," I nod. "See you then."

* * *

 **So now we have Edward's perspective of "the wave." Poor Edward, he thinks Bella hates him. He's kind of right, though... At least for now. How about Riley? Did their interaction seem nefarious or genuine?**

 **Look out for the next update on Monday! I hope you all have a great weekend (:**

 **xo j**


	12. Chapter 12

**girl**

The first day of school is a joke. I want to skip it, spend the whole day laying on the beach getting high. But I don't, I can't. One phone call home and I'm toast.

My eyes slide shut. Mr. Raymond's voice is dull, emotionless, lulling me to a near sleep state. He's reading directly from the syllabus, throwing words around that I neither know nor care about. As far as I'm concerned, school itself is a joke. The only thing it's good for is giving me a distraction, a refuge from the tension at home.

Here, I'm in total control. I can be anything, anyone I want. When I walk these halls, I wear the skin of someone else. I become someone stronger, likable, unfeeling. Someone I wish I was, but know I'm not. It's better this way. Underneath, I'm weak, ugly, unlovable. I'd have no friends, no guys, no happiness. And then I'd well and truly be nothing.

A note lands on my desk. I don't need to look up to know who it's from.

 _want 2 skip?_

I cut my eyes to Jess, pursing my lips. She raises her eyebrows and shrugs in a way that says, 'why not?' I shake my head and stuff the note into my backpack, standing as the bell trills.

"I can't," I tell her, shouldering my bag and following her out of class. "I don't want to be grounded this weekend."

"Oh, that's right." Jess drawls, dragging out the 'o.' Bumping her shoulder with mine, she cuts in front of me and darts over to her locker. "Party at Newton's, right? Fuck – I can never get these things to open!" She punctuates her exclamation with a metallic slam of her open fist to the locker door.

"Hitting it isn't going to make it open." I remark, leaning against the locker next to hers. "James told me about this college party on Friday. It's supposed to be jam-packed with hot guys – none of which know Riley."

"College guys, though? I don't know, Bella…" Jess gnaws on her lip, fixing me with a hesitant look. "What if we get drugged or raped or something?"

"We won't." I shrug, looping my arm through hers as we drift down the hallway. "James will watch out for us. It'll be fine, Jess."

"I don't know if I trust James to follow through with that." Jess murmurs, squeezing my arm. "Drug dealers? Definitely not renowned for their trustworthiness. I don't know… I think I'm gonna have to sit this one out, Bella."

"Okay," I sigh, stopping and turning her to face me. "We'll go to Mike's party instead."

"Really?" Jess grins, squeezing my hands excitedly.

"Against my better judgment, yeah." I laugh, shaking my head. "I'll just have to brave the wrath of Riley, blocker of cocks."

Snorting with laughter, Jess and I stumble down the hall, hastening our strides as the warning bell rings. "Shit," Jess cries, tugging me behind her as we turn the corner and trip up the stairs to the second floor. "Banner's going to kill us for being late!"

"And on the first day!" I snort, bursting through the stairwell doors. Turning to my right, I start down the hall toward Banner's room but am nearly bowled over by Jess as she pushes me into an empty alcove and out of sight.

"What the fuck?" I hiss, yanking my arm out of her grasp and scowling. "You pretty much tackled me, you cow!"

"Shut up! I don't want them to hear us." Jess growls, peering around the wall.

"Them?" I wrinkle my brow in confusion. "You pushed me in here to spy on someone? C'mon, Jess, we're going to be _really_ late now."

"Riley," Jess whispers. "And his hot new friend."

"Who?" I ask, pushing her aside and glancing down the hall. My stomach does a painful twist at the sight. Tall, athletic build, brunette. Leaning casually against the water fountain, he looks completely at home with Riley and his friends.

 _Edward._

* * *

 **Hi everyone! Happy Monday (: So now Bella knows Edward is hanging out with her brother. How do you think she's going to react?**

 **See you all on Thursday!**

 **xo j**


	13. Chapter 13

**UPDATE: I accidentally posted the wrong version of chapter 13! Soooo if you've already read it, go ahead and skip down to the end of the chapter. That's where the new stuff is! Sorrryyyyyy (:**

 **boy**

You'd think after the countless moves my family has made, I'd be over the whole "first day jitters" thing. I mean, I thought I was, too. Then again, I've never had to start over at the same school as _Bella_ before.

The fact that I'm letting some girl I've never even spoken to intimidate me is pathetic. I need to get ahold of myself. New schools are my _thing._ At first, I loathed moving from school-to-school, never staying longer than a year or two. I let my bitterness and resentment rule my life, which only resulted in my self-isolation.

In eighth grade, I decided to make a change. Weary of the loneliness my sullen attitude had afforded me, I harnessed my weakness and made it my strength. New schools would be _my_ thing. Making friends would be easy – instantaneous, even. Embracing this new attitude, I walked into my first new school of eighth grade with the joy and confidence of a new man.

This approach to school and life has been failsafe for the past three years, until now. Until Bella.

My inner diatribe comes to a screeching halt as Riley intercepts me in the hall. "Hey, man." Riley smiles his wide, dimpled grin, nodding his head in my direction. "What class d'you have first?"

"Uh," I mumble intelligently. Memory failing, I hastily fish the crumpled paper that the school secretary handed me this morning out of my back pocket. Squinting, I read out the subject of my first class. "AP English Language."

"No shit?" Riley chuckles, shaking the dark hair out of his eyes. "Smart _and_ athletic? The girls here are going to eat you alive."

"Hah," I laugh awkwardly. I'm no stranger to female attention, but what Riley's implying seems a little extreme.

"Come on," Riley chuckles, clapping me on the back. "I'll show you to class."

Riley's statement, although exaggerated, proves to be right. I'm by no means conceited, but even _I_ can't help but notice that nearly every girl's eyes seem to swing in my direction as I enter each class. Either that or this school must not get many new students. Regardless, my spirit is lifted by all of the positive attention. This alone is enough to make me forget about Bella.

"Where are you from?" Emmett, my burley table partner, asks during Physics.

"Pretty much everywhere," I shrug. "My family moves a lot."

"Wow," Emmett frowns. "That must be cool – to travel so much. I've only ever lived here."

"Yeah, it's pretty cool." I shrug, pretending like Emmett didn't just vocalize one of my childhood fantasies. That thought doesn't fit into the easy, likable persona that I like to portray, so I tuck it away. It'll reemerge later to be hastily scribbled across the pages of my journal.

Physics nearly flies by. Emmett and I fall into easy conversation and, before I know it, the bell rings – signaling the start of lunch. Shouldering my backpack, I follow Emmett out of class and into the hall.

"You can sit with us, if you want." Emmett murmurs, nodding toward the nearby cafeteria. "Unless you're already sitting with someone else."

"Um, thanks," I murmur, feeling awkward about possibly hurting his feelings by turning him down. "But I think I'm sitting with Riley Swan."

"Swan, huh?" Emmett says, expression unreadable. "Riley's a good guy."

"Uh, yeah," I shrug, running my hand through my hair nervously. "He's my neighbor."

"Hm," Emmett hums thoughtfully. "So, then I'm assuming you've met his little sister."

"Bella?" I ask, chewing the inside of my cheek. "Um, no, I haven't."

"Well," Emmett murmurs, face serious. "Let me be the first to tell you to watch out. Riley's nice and all, but Bella… there's something seriously wrong with her."

"Wait," I say, pulling him aside and out of the lunchroom traffic. "What do you mean?"

"Just wait," Emmett shakes his head, frowning. "You'll see soon enough. Just… remember what I said. Steer clear of that girl. She's trouble."

As Emmett retreats, I can't help but mull over what he's just told me. This isn't the first time someone has referred to Bella as that – trouble. That must make it true, yeah?

* * *

 **Hi All - hope you haven't forgotten about me in my absence! As I mentioned before, RL is pretty busy so I'm cranking out chapters whenever I can. What do you guys think of Edward's first day so far? Do you think he'll run into Bella? How about Emmett's warning? Do you think Edward will heed it?**

 **Thanks for reading (: I hope to post again on Friday!**

 **xo j**


	14. Chapter 14

**girl**

* * *

 _ **Last time:**_

" _Who?" I ask, pushing her aside and glancing down the hall. My stomach does a painful twist at the sight. Tall, athletic build, brunette. Leaning casually against the water fountain, he looks completely at home with Riley and his friends._

 _Edward._

* * *

"He's gorgeous," Jess breathes, grasping my arm as she peers around me. "Who is he?"

Swallowing, I can't help but notice that she's right. His face is all strong angles, full lips, and bright eyes. And when he smiles, my stomach does a violent twist.

"He's alright," I force out, turning away from the more-than-captivating sight.

"Who is he, though?" Jess repeats, eyes glued on the group of guys occupying the hallway.

"No clue." I lie, grasping her arm and tugging her out of the alcove and into the hall. "C'mon, we're late."

Lunch is a short reprieve from the monotony that is the first day of school. Jess and I are rovers, moving from table-to-table, socializing and flirting shamelessly.

"Bella!" Jess hisses into my ear, fisting my shirt as we weave through the tables, heading for a booth full of football players. "Look – that guy is sitting with Riley!"

"Who?" I ask, voice laced with disinterest as we near our destination. Marcus, our school's starting quarterback, and I had a brief flirtation last year that never came to fruition. He sits at the head of the booth, projecting the aloof relaxation of a guy with not a worry in the world. The smile that spreads across his face as we approach tells me all I need to know. This is going to be easy – _too_ easy, even. My steps falter as I contemplate changing plans, entertaining someone who'd pose more of a challenge.

"The hot one!" Jess exclaims. "Oh, shit, look at him, Bella! His smile is so _dreamy_."

"It's alright," I shrug, not bothering to look. She's right, it is dreamy, but there's just something about him that makes me… uncomfortable.

"Wanna go over there? Say hi to Riley? Maybe talk to his friend?" Jess asks, voice high and hands fidgety. I've known her since we were in diapers, and these are sure signs of nerves.

"Maybe later," I shrug, squeezing Jess' hand before leaning against Marcus' booth.

"Hey," Marcus grins, reaching out and grasping my hand as I step into his space. "Way to text me this summer."

"Sorry," I murmur, allowing myself to be tugged onto his lap. "I was busy."

Marcus' smile is instantaneous, spreading across his face like wild fire. His eyes dip, roving over my face, chest, and back up. His tongue drags a languid trail over his bottom lip. I purse my lips in response and lean into his side, turning to look over at Jess.

Standing awkwardly at my side, Jess flashes me an uncertain smile and glances over her shoulder. I follow her gaze to my brother's table, where Riley sits sprawled out like a king in his court. Smiling widely, Riley gestures wildly and throws his head back in laughter. A spike of jealousy twists in my gut, which I immediately swallow down.

Movement over his shoulder draws my eyes away. It's Edward. His grin is infectious as he leans forward, murmuring something to the group before dropping his head onto his folded arms, shoulders shaking with laughter. I don't want to look, but I can't help myself. Transfixed, I watch as he raises his head, drags his fingers through his hair, and – like a scene out of a cliché movie – lifts his eyes to mine.

Our gazes lock and hold, while the smile slowly falls from his face. Underneath my ass, Marcus shifts, circling my waist with his arms and pushing his face into my neck.

"I've been thinking about you all summer," Marcus murmurs, pushing my hair off of my shoulders. "Am I gonna see you at Mike's this weekend?"

Across the room, Edward's face creases in a frown before he turns away, breaking our connection. Shaking off the discomfort that crawls up my back, I turn back to Marcus and flash a beatific smile.

"Of course."

* * *

 **Hi all - I hope you guys have had a great week! As for me, it's been suuuuuper busy! However, here I am! What did you guys think? Edward seems to be getting along well with Riley and his friends.**

 **As always, thanks for the love! I hope to get the next chapter out by Tuesday. Until then, I hope you all have a great weekend (:**

 **xo j**


	15. Chapter 15

**boy**

Frowning, I glance around the room and easily find Riley amongst the crowd. He's sitting at a table crowded with people, all of which seem to be hanging on his every word.

"Edward!" He calls out once he spots me wading through the tables. "Over here, man!"

Smiling sheepishly, I dodge a freshman carrying an overflowing tray of food and slide into the unoccupied seat next to Riley. And – like clockwork – all eyes immediately swivel to me.

"Guys," Riley speaks over the buzz of the lunchroom, "this is my boy, Edward." My body nearly rocks forward with the force he puts behind the clap he lays on my back.

Introductions immediately follow, in which I try my hardest to memorize every name. There are some familiar faces from my classes, however, most are seniors – like Riley – so I've had zero interaction with them up until now.

"You're in my English class, right?" Ben, a tall, gangly brunette, asks, leaning forward as he inclines his head toward me.

"Yeah, AP, right?" Ben's head dips in confirmation.

"That class is going to be a nightmare." He chuffs softly, shaking his head. "I had that teacher last year – she gives so much work. I was up until 2 a.m. almost every night."

"Great," I groan, dropping my head onto my arms. My shoulders shake with unrestrained laughter as I mumble out a muffled, "I'm so glad I signed up for all Honors and AP classes this year."

"Nah, man," Ben chuckles, patting my shoulder as I lift my head. "You'll be good. Besides, you can always drop a class if it's too stressful…"

His voice continues, but it's like he's on mute. My eyes, which had lifted to survey the lunch room, instantly find her. And, at the state they find her in, they immediately want to pull away, but can't. It's like I have to see, I need to see. She's perched daintily on the lap of a dark-skinned guy; whose large palms rub up her narrow thighs and circle her small waist. Her face, which had held a small, secret smile as she gazed in my direction, contorts minutely, brows drawing in toward each other as the guy she's sitting on moves her hair and whispers in her ear.

My stomach recoils, revolting at the shameless display. Shaking myself out of it, I turn my head and break our connection and it's like I've just ran a marathon because of how fast and shallow I'm breathing. There was something there, something in her eyes in that moment. Something hidden underneath her heavy, sleepy lids. Is this why people are wary of her? I can't help but wonder if it is, as I've been warned off of her by two different people.

"Hey," Ben murmurs lowly, snapping me out of my trance-like, contemplative state.

"What?" I blink, smiling sheepishly as I refocus on his face. "Sorry, man, zoned out there."

"Yeah," Ben says, brows drawn together with worry. "Look," he continues, voice low as he shoots a cautionary glance at Riley before continuing. "She's gorgeous, yeah? But if Riley catches you looking at his sister like that he'll have his fist down your throat so fast you'll – well, he doesn't really give you time for an explanation."

Blinking back surprise, I open my mouth to respond, but Ben lifts his hand and shakes his head. "We're all guilty of looking at one point or another. I mean, with the way she acts, she's _dying_ to be looked at – amongst other things. Just… if you want to keep your face the way it is, stay away from Bella Swan. Riley'll make your life miserable otherwise."

Mouth dry, I just nod and stutter out a startled, "thanks." So, this is the reason behind the cryptic warnings. Riley does his job of being the protective older brother well. I'm not so much intimidated as I am impressed. He must have beat off a lot of guys to have such a reputation.

However, something else Ben said troubles me. His words repeat in my head as I try to make sense of them. "I mean, with the way she acts, she's _dying_ to be looked at – _amongst other things._ " Amongst other things. Amongst other things. Amongst other things.

Is Ben implying what I think he is?

"Yo," Riley bumps my shoulder with his, face split in that ever-present grin. "We're gonna go to the arcade after school. You in?"

"Um," I start, thinking of my mom and my utter lack of transportation. "I don't have a car."

"No worries," Riley's grin widens – if that's even possible. "I can give you a ride, man."

Swallowing, I shrug. "Sure," I murmur as my mind conjures the image of those eyes. Bella's eyes. They burn with an unnamed intensity as they stare back at me, melancholy and… something else, something teeming and dark, bleeding in at the edges. Am I the only one that sees it there? I'm not sure, but… I feel compelled to find out what put it there.

Riley be damned.

* * *

 **Hiiii - so I felt super inspired between yesterday and today, and I was able to pump out a bunch of chapters! Exciting - I know. So, I decided to post another because I'm feeling it. (:**

 **What do you guys think of what Ben told him? And his observations? He seems like he's made up his mind to unlock the mystery that is Bella. I hope he does - just so we can get some answers!**

 **xo j**


	16. Chapter 16

**girl**

"You saw him, right?" Lauren Mallory asks as she yanks her spandex shorts up her legs.

"Saw him?" Tanya laughs, shaking her head and she adjusts her sports bra. "Did I ever. The things I would do to that boy."

"So fucking hot," Lauren breathes, fanning her face.

"So fucking hot," Tanya moans, biting her lip.

"Hussies," Jess hisses, leaning into my side as we pass by Tanya and Lauren on our way out of the locker room. "Already moving in on the fresh meat like a bunch of vultures." Grinning, Jess runs ahead of me flapping her arms like wings and cawing.

"I can't deal with you right now." I laugh, covering my face and turning in the other direction, as if to distance myself from her.

"Hey!" Jess cries, following after me and wrapping me up in a too-tight embrace. "You love me."

"I do," I chuckle, patting her back. "But you're really fucking weird."

"Somebody has to be." She remarks, lifting her brows before turning back and taking flight – once again. Head shaking in bemusement, I follow behind her.

"They're right, though." Jess pants, face red as she throws herself onto the ground next to me. We're doing a fitness test in PE. Yup, on the first day of school – my teacher's cruel. I would be dying right alongside her right now, but I have a doctor's note. Thanks, Phil.

"Who is?" I reply, looking up from the book in my lap.

"Those cows," she lets out a heavy sigh when I raise my eyebrows, still not getting what she's saying. "Lauren and Tanya."

"Oh!" I reply, "Yeah, he's okay."

"You keep saying that." Jess murmurs, brow wrinkled in confusion. "Normally you'd be all over him. Especially when he looks as good as he does. No offense."

"None taken," I remark, biting into my thumbnail. "I'm just not into it." I shrug, lifting my book to my face once again.

"Sheesh," Jess chuckles, shaking her head. "Well, then, more for the rest of us!"

"Yup!" I chirp, turning the page even though I've not comprehended a single word that I've read. This conversation has me thrown. For some reason, every time someone brings Edward up I feel a weird twisting in the pit of my stomach.

"Do you…" Jess starts, gnawing at her lip before continuing. Nerves. "Do you think you could put in a good word for me? You know, since he's friends with Riley and all."

Swallowing back the spike of discomfort that forms in my gut, I shrug. "Sure, no problem."

"You're the best." Jess grins, wrapping her arms around my stiff shoulders. "And the prettiest, nicest, most amazing friend ever."

"Okay, okay," I laugh, patting her arm. "I love you, too."

Little does she know, I won't be following through.

The end of the day can't come fast enough. When dismissal bell finally rings, Jess and I rush out of class and push our way outside.

"I'll text you when I get home." Jess promises, wrapping me up in a tight hug before ducking into her mom's waiting car. Waving goodbye to Dana Stanley, I watch them pull away before turning toward the student parking lot. Hands underneath my backpack straps, I drag my feet as I make my way to Riley's car. He's not known for his patience, so he's probably ready to skin me alive for making him wait.

Feet scuffing against the pavement, I silently mull over the events of the day now that I'm alone. I don't know what I'm going to say to Jess about Edward. I really do hate lying to her, but sometimes… it's necessary. I've learned that over the years… and I've gotten pretty good at it.

Glancing up as I near Riley's car, my body jolts and comes to a halt when I see who is waiting beside it. Stomach rolling, I contemplate turning around, finding someone else to drive me home. Anything to avoid this. To avoid interaction with him. With Edward.

But it's too late. His green, green eyes lift from his phone at the exact moment that I hesitate. Smiling softly, so that one side of his mouth lifts higher than the other in what can only be described as the most devastating smile I've ever seen, he nods at me.

"Hey."

* * *

 **Hi, all (: Happy Thursday! Just wanted to thank those of you who reviewed the last chapter. I'm glad you all are enjoying my little love child of a story, even though you've waited 16 chapters for B/E interaction. Looks like you're about to get some, huh?**

 **xo j**


	17. Chapter 17

**boy**

The moment I see her, I know agreeing to this was a mistake. Her face instantly drains of all color, rosy cheeks replaced by sickly white. Her red, red lips tighten into an unhappy line, deep dimples forming in her cheeks. My chest tightens.

Forcing a smile, I clasp the back of my neck and spit out a shaky, "hey."

Instead of answering me, she rolls her eyes, tugs on the straps of her book bag, and ducks into the backseat of the car.

"Don't mind her," Riley shrugs, patting me on the back. "She's in a foul mood today."

"Right," I nod, skirting around the car and sliding into the front seat. After pushing back my chair and fastening my seatbelt, I can't help but glance at Bella through the rearview mirror. Huddled in the backseat, I can barely see her face through her curtain of shiny, white blond hair. It falls in lazy waves, looking like silvery rivulets of milk spilling over her narrow shoulders. My hands clench into fists in my lap, fighting the urge to pull the silky strands aside in order to get a better glimpse of her face. Of her deep, sad eyes.

"Have you been before?" Riley asks, forcing me to sharply snap my eyes away from his silent, somber sister.

"The arcade?" I clarify, watching Riley nod in confirmation from the corner of my eye. "Nah, I haven't had the chance to. Although, I've wanted to check it out." Lie, but he doesn't need to know that. I didn't even realize the arcade was a popular hangout spot.

"It's pretty cool," Riley says, grinning as he pulls out onto the main street. "Everyone goes there to chill after school. You can meet the rest of the team once we get there. I just have to drop my sister off at home first."

"Oh," I nod, resisting the urge to glance at her again through the mirror. "Cool, yeah, sounds good to me."

We fall into silence, the low sound of the radio filling the void that our lack of conversation creates. My eyes watch the lush greenery that zips by, wanting to observe the quiet girl in the backseat. The girl that is a stark contrast to the smirking siren that bounced from lap-to-lap at lunch. My stomach twists uneasily at the image of her sad, sad eyes staring back at me in my memory. She clearly has friends and is well-liked, why hasn't anyone noticed up until now? Why doesn't her own brother notice?

The car pulls to a stop in front of Riley's house.

"Here." Riley mutters, turning in his seat to speak with his sister. "I'll see you at dinner, yeah?"

My eyes cut to the rearview mirror just in time to see her face turn an alarming shade of ashen gray at his words. "Yeah," she mutters, voice soft and lilting. Her small hands lift her book bag onto her lap, gripping the purple fabric so hard her knuckles whiten. Slowly, her lashes lift, revealing her nearly black irises.

Gone are the hooded lids and soft, sleepy lash flutters. Wide-open, fearful eyes meet mine through the rearview mirror. Pure, animalistic terror jumps out at me, pushing me back in my seat and leaving me breathless. "Bye," she breathes, eyes closing briefly before she ducks out of the car and disappears into the house.

Heart thundering, I glance at Riley to gauge whether he witnessed what I just did. He grins at me obliviously, throwing the car in reverse and backing out of the driveway. Leaning my head back on the headrest, I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep, calming breath.

Before, my curiosity was merely piqued. But now, more than ever, I don't just _want_ to know more. I _need_ to know more. Because Emmett's right. Something _is_ seriously wrong with Bella.

The problem is, how do I find out what that is? And if I do… what do I do with that information?

* * *

 **Yikes! Bedroom eyes, no more. What do we think about Edward's observations? How about Bella's sudden fearful reaction? What brought it on?**

 **Monday we'll get Bella's POV. Have a great weekend (:**

 **xo j**


	18. Chapter 18

**girl**

His smile drops the moment I roll my eyes. For some reason, this bothers me more than the discomfort his presence causes me. Skin crawling with this realization, I rush into the backseat and plaster myself against the door.

 _Please,_ I mentally beg. _Make this the quickest ride home._

Edward ducks into the front seat, and I force myself to stare at the beat-up Chevy parked next to us rather than his pretty, pretty face – like I want to. It's hard, but I manage.

"Have you been before?" Riley's voice cuts through the silence. Cheery as ever.

"The arcade?" Edward asks in his deep, gravelly voice that sounds like sin. "Nah, I haven't had the chance to. Although, I've wanted to check it out."

I want to look at him, see his face as he says this. Is he smiling? Is he frowning? Something tells me that he looks beautiful, no matter what his face is doing. I don't like my train of thought, which drastically contradicts the attitude I've had toward him all day.

I'm confusing myself.

"It's pretty cool," Riley mutters. He thinks everything is cool, awesome, lit. Nothing affects him. Happy, smiling, perfect Riley – although, Phil would disagree with that sentiment. "Everyone goes there to chill after school. You can meet the rest of the team once we get there. I just have to drop my sister at home first."

"Oh," Edward murmurs softly. "Cool, yeah, sounds good to me."

He doesn't sound impressed. I don't blame him. It's just an arcade where a bunch of idiots meet up and make out at. But maybe I'm just bitter. Riley has never let me go with him. He doesn't want me cramping his style… and hooking up with his friends. Not that that has stopped me.

"Here." Riley says, turning in his seat as he comes to a stop in our driveway. His face is open, honest as he smiles his wide, boyish smile at me. My heart tugs, longing for the days when his smile was stained with grape popsicles and filled with gaping holes where teeth were missing. Life was so simple then. Pure, innocent, fun.

"I'll see you at dinner, yeah?"

My spine stiffens as the words leave his mouth. My blood turns to ice in my veins. Panic creeps up my back, blurring the edges of my vision. I'm blind with fear as I lift my head. Instinct warms my legs for flight. Conditioning forces my body back into my seat. Stay still. Take it. You deserve it.

"Yeah," I breathe, closing my eyes against the sickening onslaught of helplessness the seeps into my core. Into my bones. My very being.

Edward's eyes stare back me as I peel mine open. Brilliant, brilliant green. But it's not his beautiful irises that have me taking in a sharp, reactive breath. No, it's the worry and kindness that I see shining in them. It's the strong, silent message they convey to me.

 _I see you,_ they say. _I see you and I care._

"Bye," I rush out, ducking out of the car and flying up the driveway in my haste to get inside, get away. This can't happen again. Ever. I need to stay away from him – for his safety, and for mine.

The look he just gave me… it's dangerous.

* * *

 **Happy Monday! What do we think about Bella's reaction? Any theories? I'd love to hear them (:**

 **I'm hoping to post daily this week! (: So I'll see you guys tomorrow!**

 **xo j**


	19. Chapter 19

**boy**

" _I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow."_

 _I finally understand what Darcy meant by this. Never before have I been as enraptured by a girl's eyes. Something about hers call to me. Deeper and darker than the sea, they hint at the secrets she keeps locked tight within herself. I want to puncture her psyche. I want to watch the secrets pour out, like water from a bag. Her sadness writhing helplessly within the empty plastic – a trapped fish-out-of-water. I want to see it die, gasping for breath, and free her from all that plagues her._

 _I don't even know her and I want to save her. I've never felt like this. I've never had heroic aspirations. I've met plenty of pretty girls – prettier girls. I've romanced them before. Left them easily. Left broken hearts behind, too, I'm sure._

 _But those eyes. They haunt me._

My pen stops its furious scribbling, falling heavily against the page. Weight, although still present, lifts from my shoulders. I needed to get that out. Especially after spending several hours with her jovial, oblivious brother. A brother that is so concerned about her ruining herself by sleeping around that he fails to see the darkness that's already consumed her from within.

The heavenly smell of lasagna wafts into my room from under my door. My watch tells me it's nearly six thirty. Time for dinner.

I take the stairs two at a time. My feet hit the landing just as my dad walks in through the front door. His eyes crinkle in a warm, paternal smile when he sees me standing against the banister.

"Hey, Son," he murmurs, dropping his suitcase by the door before ducking into the kitchen to greet Mom. My feet carry me into the dining room. I fall haphazardly into my designated seat. Moments later, my parents join me, holding steaming dishes of food.

"Good first day of school?" Mom asks, shoveling a heaping helping of cheesy goodness onto my plate.

"Sure," I shrug, forking in a piping hot mouthful.

"Did you have a good time with Riley Swan?" She presses, smiling as she passes me the salad. Frowning, I drop a few leaves onto my plate before handing the bowl to Dad.

"Yeah, he's a nice guy."

"Hm," Dad hums, frowning at my words. "I've heard otherwise."

"Really?" I ask, interest piqued. Maybe this will give me some insight on Bella. "What have you heard?"

"Well," Dad intones, folding his napkin across his lap. "Phil has mentioned – in passing – that Riley isn't a conscientious child. Something about him shirking his familial responsibilities in order to further his social life. Not only that, but he is also physically aggressive with his peers. It's a wonder he hasn't been expelled for all the fights he's instigated. Seems to me that he's very selfish. Real shame, but every good family has a black sheep."

"I don't know," I mutter, immediately jumping to his defense. Riley might be oblivious, but he means well and cares for his family. It's very obvious, even in the minimal interactions I've had with him. This description of Riley just isn't accurate. "Riley isn't like that. He cares about his family a lot. The fights he's been in were in his sister's defense."

Scowling, Dad puts down his fork and fixes me with a cold stare. "And you think her promiscuous behavior warrants a defense?"

"Yes – maybe – I don't know… but, Dad… I think there's something wrong with her – Bella. She's just… she's so sad and scared. I don't know what it is but I feel like I need to help her. It's like nobody else sees it but me." The words come tumbling out of my mouth like word vomit. Through it all, Dad stares back at me with a blank, unblinking stare.

After the last words leave my mouth, the silence stretches between us. Dad stares back at me, eyes cool, calculating as he digests my words. After a beat, he takes a deep breath before speaking. "You need to leave that girl alone, Edward." His words, although spoken softly, deliver a powerful blow. His eyes pin me to my seat, flashing with steely, unblinking authority.

What the hell?

* * *

 **Woah! Were you expecting that? What do you think? Why did Edward's dad react the way that he did?**

 **See you tomorrow (:**

 **xo j**


	20. Chapter 20

**boy**

Startled, I open my mouth to speak, but Dad merely lifts his hand to stop me. Pursing his lips, he continues. "That's not a suggestion, Edward. It's an order. Leave. That. Girl. Alone."

Gaping like a gasping goldfish, I glance at Mom, trying to gauge her reaction. Face ashen, she pushes her food around with her fork and avoids my gaze. What the hell is going on here? What do I not know? Why does my dad care so much about this?

Mood effectively soured, I push my plate of food away and drop my hands onto the table, silverware clinking with the force. "May I be excused?" The question tastes bitter in my mouth. I want to just push away from the table and storm upstairs, but deeply infused etiquette keeps me from doing so.

"Yes," Mom murmurs, shoulders sagging under some invisible weight. She tries to mask the tremble in her voice and fails. I hear it. Dad does, too. His hand slides against hers reassuringly before he lifts his eyes to mine.

"Remember what I said to you." Dad warns as I stand. Scowling, I duck out of the room and climb the stairs with a heavy heart. I don't understand what just happened. What caused this shift in demeanor in my father?

My door slams shut, fingers pressing in the lock. Falling against my big bed in my big room, I stare up at the ceiling. Never before have I felt like this – so confused and distraught. Why would Dad care about some random girl? Why would he warn me – no, order me – to stay away from her after I've expressed my concerns.

It doesn't make sense.

Unless… it does.

Hands shaking with anxiety and – possibly – discovery, I lift my laptop from my nightstand and power it up. Fingers pounding against the keys, I type in the keywords I hope will bring me to enlightenment. My head falls back against my pillows as Google populates the results, which confirm my suspicions. The headlines jump off the page, article after article, revealing it all.

 _Ed Masen joins incumbent Senator Dwyer as Campaign Manager_

 _Masen hopes to 'Clean Up' Senator Dwyer's Act_

 _Ed 'The Cleaner' Masen Joins Florida Senate Race_

My stomach rolls. I should have known. The signs were all there. When we first moved here, I never once questioned how dad knew our new neighbors. I never saw the strangeness in it. I should have realized all along that he was working with him. Dad is Phil Dwyer's new campaign manager.

This isn't the first time I've seen my father referred to as 'The Cleaner.' I've read plenty of articles about him, about his reputation. In politics, he's known as a hard ass that can make bad press and scandals practically disappear into thin air. Thus, "cleaning" his clients' reputations.

Disgust twists in my gut as the realization hits me. This is why he's so adamant that I stay away. He has skin in the game. He – and his client – benefit from Bella keeping whatever it is that is bothering her bottled inside.

There have been times when I've disliked my father. Even times when I've thought that I hated him. Nothing, and I mean _nothing_ , compares to how I feel about him right now. I don't know what Bella's deal is, or what she's hiding, but stifling it in order to win an election is inherently wrong. Nothing is worth risking another person's mental and emotional health.

Resolve strengthened, I decide that I _will_ find out what is plaguing Bella and I _will_ get her help. Consequences be damned.

My dad, and hers, can go to hell.

* * *

 **Happy hump day everyone! What do we think about Edward's discovery? Are we shocked? Angry? Tell me how you feel! Edward's resolve seems to be even stronger now. Do you think he'll be able to uncover what is going on in the Dwyer house?**

 **Thanks - as always - to my ride or die reviewers and rec'ers. Words cannot express how much I appreciate your constant support (: See you all tomorrow!**

 **xo j**


	21. Chapter 21

**girl**

Six thirty.

The stairwell narrows and warps in and out of focus in my panic. Trembling hands latch onto the banister as clumsy feet carry me down the steps.

I make it halfway down before I turn back again, stumbling in my haste to return to the second story. At the top, my feet halt on the landing. Frantic eyes sweep down the hall – searching for an escape, for a safe haven. My stomach drops and constricts when I realize that one does not exist. Not here. Not in this home, under this roof, amongst these people.

My anxiety has me alert. Senses heightened, I detect the scent of dinner as it wafts up the stairs. It should beckon to me, as my stomach feels like a gaping maw gnawing its way through my torso. It doesn't. Instead, my stomach rolls with unease.

"Isabella?" Mrs. Cope calls up the stairs, voice warming my insides and curling around my shoulders in a maternal hug. "Dinner is ready, hon."

A deep, shuddering sigh is expelled from my lungs before I turn back and make my descent. My steps are steadier this time with the promise of Mrs. Cope's protection. And when I reach the first-floor landing and spot the lone plate set on the tabletop, tension immediately drains from my body.

"Where is everyone?" I ask Mrs. Cope as I slide into my seat at the dining room table. Her face creases in a sad smile as she hands me a glass of water.

"Mr. and Mrs. Dwyer took the twins out to dinner. Riley is at a friend's house." Relief, utter relief blooms in my chest. "It's just us girls tonight, sweetheart." Mrs. Cope's eyes crease in an indulgent smile.

"Good," I tell her, feeling better, lighter at this discovery. I feel so good that I pull the plate of homemade Ravioli toward me with flourish. " _And_ you made my favorite!"

"Mine, too." She grins, producing her own plate and plopping it down on the table next to mine. "Thank god," she sighs, tucking into her meal. "Finally, a moment to relax."

Body sagging in respite, I mirror her and bring a forkful of food to my lips. I hardly even taste the richness of the meal as I shovel in more and more and more. Relief is three cheese ravioli. Relief is Mrs. Cope dinners. Relief is the first meal I've been able to stomach in days.

-prey-

Tuesday morning. Sophomore year day two.

I wake with a smile, stretching my limbs lazily as my eyes flutter open. If this were a Disney movie, birds would be chirping, the sun would be streaming in through the open window, and I would break into spontaneous song. Instead, I roll haphazardly out of bed on sleep-happy legs and stagger into the bathroom for a quick shower. Thirty minutes later, I'm dressed, ready, and even wearing a bit of light make up as I skip down the stairs.

"Took you long enough." Riley grumbles, tossing me the sack lunch Mrs. Cope always makes us before ducking outside. His mood is a rain cloud over my bright, sunshine-y day. Luckily, my amazing dinner and restful sleep has afforded me with a proverbial umbrella of sorts.

"Well, good morning to you, too." I murmur sarcastically as I follow him outside. He's always like this in the morning. He projects this easy-going, devil-may-care personality in public, but inside he's a real Type A control freak. Especially when it comes to getting to places on time.

Smirking at my musings, I step out onto the front porch and visibly recoil at the sight that greets me. Standing beside my brother's car is the last person I had expected to see. Wild hair and cheekbones and eyes that are perceptive to a fault.

With a gust of hurricane-force winds, my little umbrella flips inside out. His presence alone is enough to destroy my safety and expose me to the painful onslaught of the torrential downpour that constantly looms overhead.

Edward.

* * *

 **Hi everyone! I'm so, so sorry about the wait for this chapter. RL is kicking my ass as it is beginning to get into that "testing** **crunch time." Unfortunately, that means updates will be sporadic until my schedule becomes more regular.**

 **Annoying situations aside, what do we think? Bella finally catches a break, but then Edward happens. Looks like we're going to get some ExB interaction next chapter. Are we excited? Nervous? Frustrated because you're 21 chapters deep and there STILL isn't ExB lemons. Yeah, sorry, this one's a slow, slow, slooooooowww burn.**

 **You love me (;**

 **xo j**


	22. Chapter 22

**boy**

I'm not shocked when - the moment she sees me - Bella freezes on the front steps. The serene look on her face instantly drops, replaced by the look of a cornered wild animal.

Her look tells me everything I need to know. I am the hunter, she is the prey. Or, at least, that is how _she_ sees it.

"Hey!" Riley calls to her, frowning at her immobile form. "Let's go! We're going to be late." With an open-fist thump to the roof of the car, he slides into the driver's side.

I hesitate for a moment, glancing over at Bella again as she slowly descends the front steps and makes her way to the waiting car. "Good morning," I tell her, smiling the least threatening smile I can muster as I deliver my greeting.

"Fuck off." She tells me, eyes flashing darkly as she climbs into the back seat.

Well, that was successful.

Frowning, I duck into the car and fasten my seatbelt as Riley backs out of the driveway. "Do you need me to put the seat up more?" Clearly a glutton for punishment, I attempt conversation with Bella once again. Her eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror and roll sarcastically.

"No," she snaps, letting out a frustrated sigh before unloading a hateful tirade on her brother. "Is this going to be an everyday occurance, Ri? Because I just might blow my fucking brains out if I have to deal with all of this positivity so early in the morning."

"Yes, it is." Riley clarifies, voice matter-of-fact and not at all disturbed by his sister's outburst. "Edward is a new friend of mine. I expect you to respect that, just as I respect Jessica's annoying presence on almost a daily basis."

"Whatever." Bella grumbles, jostling around in the backseat in annoyance and nearly kneeing me in the kidney in the process. Shaking my head in exasperation, I can't help but let out an amused chuckle. Clearly, I'm not welcome here. However, I'm not one to back down from a challenge. I haven't in the past and I won't now.

I will find out what is going on here. Somebody has to.

-prey-

The school parking lot is already nearly full as we pull in. Our peers wander about from space to space, socializing amongst the parking spots.

"Shit," Riley curses as he weaves in and out of rows. "I knew we were going to be too late to get the good spots."

"Not my fault." Bella mutters from the backseat.

"No," Riley sighs as he pulls into a spot at the back. "Nothing is ever your fault." His eyes lift to the rearview mirror as he delivers his cutting line. From my side mirror, I watch as Bella's face falls minutely before she replaces her mask of indifference and rolls her eyes.

"Whatever." Her door swings open violently. With one foot out of the door, she ducks her head back into the car and delivers her parting line. "Later, your highnesses."

Frowning, I glance at Riley as she slams her door shut. "Is she always like this in the morning?"

"Pretty much," Riley shrugs, gathering his backpack and moving to exit the car. "Still love her, though. You'll see - she's like this twenty-four-seven. Well, when she's not begging to be fucked... She was such a good, sweet little girl growing up - goofy, even! Then - BAM - something inside her shifted. I blame it on puberty."

Interesting. Something tells me that puberty isn't the only thing to blame for Bella's change of heart.

* * *

 **Hi all - hope you all are having a great weekend! (: What do we think about the** **ExB interaction? How about what Riley said about Bella? Is anyone else anxious for Edward to befriend Bella and get to the bottom of this? Haha**

 **Next update: Monday (:**

 **xo j**


	23. Chapter 23

**girl**

Feet firmly on school asphalt, I take a deep breath and trudge away from my brother's car. I can't help the sickening twist of guilt that swirls in my gut. I hate acting the way I just did, especially since I can tell that Edward is truly a nice, genuine guy.

I just… can't. The way he looks at me makes me feel raw, exposed. Nobody ever looks at me like that. Like they actually see the _real_ me, not the person I pretend to be. That, on top of the fact that I have _no idea_ what he wants from me, is scary. Usually, I can tell almost instantly what a guy wants from me. Mostly because guys typically want one thing from me - sex. Edward isn't like that. His eyes watch me with concern, not lust. What he's concerned about, I don't know. I'm pretty good about putting up a front, covering the tracks. No one has caught on. Well, not until now.

I need to stay far, far away from Edward.

"Hey," Jess greets me, smiling from ear to ear as I enter the combination to my locker. "You didn't text me back last night."

"Sorry," I shrug, grabbing out my English notebook and shutting my locker door. "I actually fell asleep early as hell last night."

"I can tell." Jess bumps my shoulder with hers as we drift down the hall. "The bags under your eyes are gone - for once."

"Thanks," I snark, playfully shoving her into the wall. "You're the best."

"I know," Jess grins, wrapping her arm around my shoulder and laying a smooch on my temple. "Don't look now," she tells me conspiratorially. "But Jasper's staring at you."

What's new? I want to tell her. He's been blowing my phone up ever since we hooked up this summer. He doesn't seem to get that it was a one-time thing. Plus, he's dating Alice Brandon.

My eyes slide in the direction that she's indicated. Jess is right - he is staring. Staring _hard_. Brow furrowed, Jasper combs his fingers through his tousled hair and oh-so-obviously checks me out. A plump pink bottom lip disappears into his mouth as his gaze lingers on my exposed thighs and then slides up the rest of my body. Desperate blue eyes meet mine as he releases his bottom lip and tongues his upper.

 _That._ That is how I'm used to guys looking at me.

* * *

 **Hi all - happy Monday (: Bella always makes me sad. She's more comfortable with guys looking at her with lust than with concern. The things that says about her... Poor baby. Where do we go from here? Well, there's another BPOV coming Wednesday!**

 **xo j**


	24. Chapter 24

**girl**

"I feel bad for her," Jess sighs as we duck into our shared homeroom.

"Who?" I ask, knowing full-well that she means Alice.

"Alice Brandon." Jess clarifies, eyes darting around the room to ensure that no one is listening to our conversation. "Not only did he cheat -"

"Thoroughly." I add, cutting her off with a silly smirk. Internally, I falter. Why do I keep doing this to myself? Inside, I'm torn to shreds by guilt. Outside, I'm gloating. The contradiction is ridiculous and nonsensical. Nonetheless, I find myself doing it over and over again.

"Ok - gross." Jess sticks her tongue out at me before continuing. "But, I digress. Not only did he cheat, he's still giving you the eyes like you're the cat's meow. I mean, you really must have rocked his world."

"It's a blessing and curse." I shrug, unwrapping a piece of gum and popping it into my open mouth. I nearly swallow it – though – mid-chew when Tanya Denali slides into the seat next to me.

"Hey girls," she greets, smiling at me coyly and batting her heavy lashes. Fake, like the rest of her.

"What's up?" I reply, playing it cool while Jess lets out an incredulous scoff. Tanya and I haven't ever been friendly. Not since my family moved here in sixth grade. I'm not sure if it's because we're too similar or different. It pains me to admit that.

"Oh, nothing." Tanya grins, twirling a strand of strawberry blond hair around her clawed index finger. "I'm just here to enjoy the pleasure of your company."

"Right!" Jess scoffs, throwing her head back and laughing. "I'm sorry, but I don't believe that."

Tanya's face turns down in a scowl before she swivels her eyes to me. Bright, vivid blue irises narrow before she lets out a deep sigh. "Fine – whatever – forget it."

"Wait!" I call out to her, morbid curiosity forcing me to keep her here and hear her out. "Really, what is it that you want?"

Lips pursed, Tanya plops back down in her chair and crosses her arms over her chest. "I just… couldn't help but notice that Edward Masen rode to school with you this morning."

"Sure," I nod, mind already jumping to conclusions about her motives. She better not ask me to hook her up or I'm going to throat punch her. I'm not the Love Connection. Least of all to her.

"I just…" Tanya starts, pausing to rethink what she wants to say. "Is he going to Mike's party this weekend?"

"Fuck if I know." I mutter, shaking my head and laughing. "He's my brother's friend, not mine."

"Oh," Tanya breathes, frowning.

"You want to know so bad?" I ask, raising my brows sarcastically. "Ask him yourself. He's nice. I'm sure he'll be more than happy to answer your little question."

"Fuck, Bella." Tanya scowls. "Why do you always have to be such a bitch?"

"Takes one to know one." I mutter childishly as she storms off.

"He's nice?" Jess asks, voice small, dreamy. "How do you know? Did you talk to him?"

"Briefly." I respond curtly. "And, before you ask, no – I did not talk to him about you."

"Jeez," Jess sighs. "You know, Tanya's a bitch but she has a point. You don't have to be mean all the time. I was just curious."

Guilt immediately spreads through my chest, momentarily choking me up. "You're right." I breathe after a moment of tense silence. "I'm sorry, Jess. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that."

"Thanks," she grins, nudging me with her shoulder. "But… will you?"

Growling with mock frustration, I shove her shoulder playfully. "I already told you I would, didn't I?"

"Oh," Jess grins goofily. "Yeah, right, you did." After another extended pause, she continues. "You're the best."

"I know."

I'm not, though.

* * *

 **Hi all - happy hump day! (: Got a little B/T interaction this chapter. What do we think? B is getting pushed toward E from all directions, huh?**

 **See you all Friday!**

 **xo j**


	25. Chapter 25

**boy**

The day passes in much of the same manner as the last.

Ben sits with me during first period, snickering as Mrs. Wilson leans against the whiteboard and comes away with smudges of dry erase marker on the back of her white blouse. Emmett and I bond over our mutual love for old cartoons in Physics. Riley smiles his signature dimpled grin as I slide onto the bench next to him at lunch.

"Good day?" He asks, taking a hulking bite from his sandwich and chewing noisily.

"Sure," I shrug, picking the crust off of my own sandwich. "It's the second day of school, so there's not really much going on yet."

"Yet," Riley nods solemnly. "Wait until baseball season starts. You're going to be rethinking all of those hard classes you signed up for."

"Maybe," I laugh, rolling my eyes and taking a bite. We're silent for a moment before movement to my left has us turning our heads. My eyebrows raise as a small girl with strawberry blond hair stops behind the seat next to me. Clad in a skin-tight pink shirt and painted-on jeans, she smiles alluringly and places her palms on the table beside me.

"Is this seat taken?" Her voice is high and airy, perfectly befitting a girl of her small stature.

"Nah," Riley answers for me, face split open in that cocky, shit-eating grin. Her chin dips and eyelashes flutter as she drops down onto the bench next to me, a wave of strong, floral aroma wafting over me. "Edward, this is Tanya. Tanya – Edward."

Tanya licks her lips before leaning forward and kissing my cheek in greeting. "Nice to meet you, Edward." I blink back surprise as she pulls away slowly, eyes shining with want as she practically consumes me with her gaze.

"Sure, yeah." I mumble, cheeks heating in embarrassment. Okay, I've flirted with my fair share of girls before, but none have been this aggressive right off the bat. It's a bit off-putting.

"Mike Newton is having a party this weekend," she starts, twirling her hair around her small index finger. She licks her lips suggestively before continuing. "I was wondering if I'd see you there."

Frowning, I glance at Riley to my right for help. My eyes plead with him as I start, "This is the first I've heard of this party. I don't think I'm invited."

"It's not really something you get invited to." Riley shrugs, flashing me a playful grin. _Don't be a pussy_ , his eyes tell me. "Pretty much everyone just shows up."

"Oh," I mutter dumbly, glancing back at Tanya. She stares back me, eyes glittering with hope and bottom lip trapped between her teeth.

"So, I'll see you there?" She says, releasing her bottom lip to flash me a small, flirtatious smirk.

Swallowing, I shrug. I'll tell her anything to get her to go away. "Yeah, um, I guess you will."

Eyelashes fluttering, she leans forward and squeezes my hand. I want to yank it away the moment her skin touches mine. "See you then." And then she's gone in a flip of silky hair and an exaggerated sway of narrow hips.

"Well," Ben says, chuckling at my expense from across the table. "Looks like someone is already trying to lay claim on our boy Edward."

"My man!" Riley exclaims, bumping my fist with his. "Not even halfway through the first week of school and you already have the girls lining up. Not bad, not bad!"

Shaking my head, I pull my fingers through my hair and smile despite my embarrassment. "Right, they're lined up around the block."

"Be careful what you wish for," Riley brandishes a half-eaten carrot stick at me. "Because you might just get it! Tanya's just the first one to strike, my friend. Wait 'til this weekend."

"Girls here are crazy." I chuckle, shaking my head in distraught and amusement.

"You haven't seen anything yet, man." Riley smirks, clapping me on the back.

I'm sure.

* * *

 **Uh oh... Tanya's trying to get her claws in him already! It doesn't seem like Edward is into it, though. What do we think? Are we ready for it to be the weekend for ExB already? School is boring - let's get to the party! (;**

 **xo j**


	26. Chapter 26

**girl**

"Bella," Riley sighs, knuckles hard on my bedroom door. "C'mon, we're going to be late!"

"I told you!" I hiss, cracking open the door and scowling at him through the opening. "I'm going to ride to school with Jess from now on."

Riley's brows tug together in a mixture of confusion and hurt. "Why?"

"I just…" I start, trying to find an appropriate excuse. "Jess and I have almost all of the same classes this year. I want to ride with her to check my homework."

"Right," Riley scowls, rolling his eyes. "If that's what we're calling it now. If you're suddenly so concerned about your grades, maybe you should actually do your work instead of copying off of your friend."

"I actually _do_ do my homework." I reply cooly. "Not that it is any of your business, Mr. Perfect."

"Perfect," Riley scoffs. "Whatever. Get a ride home from her too, while you're at it. I could use a break from your attitude."

Stomach twisting, I slam my door shut in his face and slide down to the floor. Head in my hands, I let out a pained sigh and press my thumbs into my temples. I hate fighting with my brother, but - sometimes - it is a necessary evil. Although he's not too perceptive, he's better when held an arms distance away. He wouldn't understand. No one would.

The sound of a car horn blaring rouses me from my meditative state. Gathering my belongings, I shoot out of my room and fly down the stairs. It's better this way - safer.

-prey-

My plan works like a charm. Without our forced morning and afternoon car communions, I see Edward a total of three times this week. All of which happen in passing or at lunch. This, to me, is a complete success. And, by Friday, I'm in an excellent mood.

"Are we going?" Jess asks as her mom pulls into my driveway Friday afternoon.

"Sure," I shrug, smiling as I tug my backpack over one shoulder. "Let me just get my stuff from my room." I address Jess' mom with my next question. "You don't mind waiting, do you? I'll be just a minute."

"Not at all, hon." Dana smiles, eyes crinkling with maternal warmth. A knife twists in my heart, not at the sight, but at the thought that presses forward in my mind. _When was the last time my own mom looked at me like that?_

A while ago - that's the answer.

Swallowing back bitterness, I climb out of the car and jog up the front steps. The door is unlocked when I try it, meaning I'm not the first one home.

"Hey!" Riley calls from the living room as I step through to the foyer. "Bella - come here a sec."

Shifting my bag up my shoulder, I step into the living room to see Riley and Edward sprawled out on the couch, engaged in some sort of shooting video game. "What's up?" I start, forcing my eyes away from the back of Edward's head, which is nothing short of beautiful. Everything about him is - unfortunately. Things would be so much easier if he was unattractive.

Game on pause, Riley turns on the couch to look at me. Eyes serious, he begins. "You going to be at the party tonight?"

"Maybe," I shrug, forcing my eyes away from Edward - who is now full-on watching me. His stare is so intense that my skin can almost feel the broad strokes his eyes take. Covered from head to toe in goosebumps, I wrap my arms around myself for protection. "What's it to you?"

"Look," Riley sighs. "I'm not going to say you can't go… but, please, try to behave - for once. It's a new year… maybe try to turn over a new leaf? Guys… well, we may seem like we like that kind of stuff, but we actually don't. Girls that act like that, well, they don't have respect - for themselves or from anyone else. And I hate that for you."

Internally, I recoil as if I've been slapped. Externally, I pull my lips back in a teasing grin. "Girls that act like what?" I probe, pressing my finger into the wound.

"You know." Riley sighs, eyes and voice betraying his exhaustion. "I don't know why you have to act like a bitch every time I try to have a serious talk with you about this."

"Maybe I just don't care?" I shrug, backing out of the room.

"Yeah, well, maybe I do?" Riley counters.

"Yeah, well, maybe you should shove that concern up your ass." I rebut, eyebrows raised. "I didn't ask for it and - quite frankly - I don't want it. This is my life to ruin. Not yours."

My words are addressed to Riley, but my eyes find Edward. Sitting stock-still on the couch, his face crinkles in a deep frown. With a tilt of my head in acknowledgment, my message is clear.

I meant you, too.

* * *

 **Message received loud and clear, Bella! How do we feel about Riley's attempt to talk with B about her promiscuous ways? Genuine? Ingenuine? How about Bella's defense mechanism? What's going on with that girl?!**

 **See you Friday (:**

 **xo j**


	27. Chapter 27

**boy**

"Look," Riley sighs before squaring up and shouldering into a difficult conversation. "I'm not going to say you can't go… but, please, try to behave - for once. It's a new year… maybe try to turn over a new leaf? Guys… well, we may seem like we like that kind of stuff, but we actually don't. Girls that act like that, well, they don't have respect - for themselves or from anyone else. And I hate that for you."

Hurt briefly flashes across Bella's face before she slams her mask in place. With hard eyes and a teasing smile, she deflects. "Girls that act like what?"

"You know." Riley sighs, his resolve crumpling. "I don't know why you have to act like a bitch every time I try to have a serious talk with you about this."

"Maybe I just don't care?" Bella counters, smirking as she walks backward toward the doorway. Her arms lift in a way that says, "who cares?" Riley's attempt at a heart-to-heart is clearly a fail. But, what did he expect? Not only did he come in hot with his accusations, he also broached a tough subject in front of a total stranger. I would throw it in his face, too.

"Yeah, well, maybe I do?" Riley counters. Exhausted by this exchange, I sit back against the couch and fiddle with the controller. If this is how all of their interactions go, I'm not surprised that he's utterly clueless about her motivation.

"Yeah, well, maybe you should shove that concern up your ass." Bella snaps, brows raised in challenge. She takes a deep breath before glancing over at me and throwing out her parting remark. "I didn't ask for it and - quite frankly - I don't want it. This is my life to ruin. Not yours."

Ouch.

With a white-knuckle grip on the PS4 controller, I watch in bewilderment as Bella throws her shiny hair over her shoulder and stalks out of the room. That was a fail.

"Bitch," Riley murmurs under his breath before shifting to face the TV and restarting the game. Shrouded in tense silence, Riley shifts through the controls and takes his apparent anger out on the game.

"That was a little harsh, man…" I mutter, watching his reaction through my peripherals. His jaw ticks in response while his fingers jab aggressively at the controls.

"Yeah, well, I've tried every approach under the sun," Riley grinds out. "Nothing works with her."

"Regardless, it probably wasn't a good idea to bring that up in front of me." Dropping my controller, I turn to face him and sigh. "I'm sure she doesn't want some random stranger listening to her family drama. It's not really any of my business."

"You're right." Riley says, turning to face me with hardness in his eyes. "It's not." With that last comment, Riley turns to face the TV and continues to punish his controller. Effectively dismissed, I pick up my controller and gnaw at my lip.

Maybe Bella's not the only one in this family that's broken. Maybe they both could use my help.

* * *

 **Surprise! Back-to-back updates (: Are you happy? I know I am!**

 **So, E called out R! I'm guessing that most of you agree with this move. Sass and deflection clearly run in the family based off of Riley's response. Looks like Edward's now the caption of Team Save the Swans! Haha**

 **See you tomorrow!**

 **xo j**


	28. Chapter 28

**girl**

The cars are lined up around the block as we pull onto Mike's street.

"Sheesh," Dana mutters, navigating around rows of cars before coming to a stop in front of the Newton's house. "This sure is a big party…"

"First one of the year," Jess shrugs, leaning across the center consul to land a smacking kiss on her mom's cheek. "Thanks for the ride, mom!"

"Sure," Dana nods, biting into her thumb nail. "You girls will let me know when you're ready to be picked up, right?"

"Of course!" Jess grins, squeezing her mom's arm reassuringly. "I'd never get in the car with someone that has been drinking."

"Good," Dana sighs. "Alright, get out now before I change my mind and take you two back home with me."

"You're the best!" I call as I fling open my door and hop out.

Dana grins, eyes crinkling happily. "Be safe."

"Always." I nod, gripping the door handle as my heart warms with her concern.

"C'mon!" Jess yells, hair floating daintily around her head as she skips toward the house. "We're late!"

"Fashionably." I smirk, trailing after her.

The door swings open to reveal a party in full swing. People crowd every room, sipping from red cups and talking loudly over the booming music. Smoke clouds the air as we navigate to the kitchen. Moments later, Jess and I are dipping our noses into warm, frothy keg beer.

"I think I see Edward!" Jess calls out suddenly, gripping my arm hard in her excitement. "Oh, he's with Riley." She instantly releases my arm with a frown. Already privy to Riley and I's disagreement earlier today, Jess knows that I'd prefer to avoid Riley at all costs. Even if that means forgoing interaction with her flavor of the month.

She's such a good friend.

If I was a better person I'd bite the bullet and introduce them. But I'm not. Instead, I chug my weight in beer and selfishly tug Jess along with me in my search for Marcus. We'd agreed over text earlier today to meet up tonight. And I fully intend to finish what we started. Tonight. Especially in light of Riley's comments. How dare he put my business out there like that! He thinks he was embarrassed by me before? Wait until he sees me now.

Mind foggy and limbs loose, I nearly squeal in excitement when I find Marcus standing amongst a crowd of my classmates in the living room. With Jess at my elbow, I saunter up to him and boldly tap him on the shoulder.

"Holy shit," Marcus murmurs as he turns and tugs me into his arms. Holding me at a distance, he gives me a slow once-over before letting out a low whistle. "You look… fucking incredible."

Clad in a flimsy, strappy tank that falls just above my bellybutton and frayed jean shorts, my body is on full display. Not only is a wide swath of naked skin exposed between the hem of my shirt and the top of my shorts, but the shape and size of my chest is noticeably visible due to my going braless.

"Thanks," I sigh as I press myself against his well-muscled side. "I finally found you."

"You did," Marcus says lowly, lashes dropping over dark eyes that dance with want. "Were you looking for me long?"

"Too long," I nod, exaggeratedly jutting out my bottom lip and batting my lashes. "I was scared you would forget about me."

"Forget about _you_?" Marcus scoffs before tightening his arms around me. "Never."

"Good." I purse my lips, dancing my fingers up his spine.

"He's looking over here." Jess hisses as she leans into my side. "Riley." She clarifies before I'm able to open my mouth and ask.

"Want to go somewhere more… private?" I suggest, licking my lips and raising my brows in invitation.

"Fuck yes," Marcus nods in assent. After bumping fists with his bros, he laces our fingers together and tugs me behind him. Ducking into the crowded hall, Marcus pauses before turning and climbing the stairs to the second floor.

"Finally, some peace and quiet." I sigh, pressing myself against his back once we reach the second-floor landing. "Pick a door, any door." I tease as he scans the hallway for a viable option.

"Shit!" He murmurs after finding several doors locked. However, the door at the end of the hall opens easily, revealing a pristine spa bathroom. "Bingo!" He cries, tugging me inside and engaging the lock.

Alone at last.

* * *

 **Happy Friday! Are you all excited for the weekend? I know _I_ am! What do we think of Bella? Looks like she's going to be getting into some trouble at the party. Are we shocked? **

**See you Monday!**

 **xo j**


	29. Chapter 29

**boy**

Mike Newton's house is monstrous. It reminds me of one of those houses you'd see on MTV Cribs – all Grecian columns and opulent fountains. But, with the sheer number of people jam packed inside, it seems puny. It's like our entire school is here.

"Want a beer?" Riley offers, shaking an empty cup at me. His ruddy cheeks, sweaty hair, and easy smile tells me he's already several cups deep.

"Nah," I murmur, eyes darting around the room. Subconsciously, I search for her, for Bella. We've been here for nearly an hour and I've yet to see her. "I don't drink."

"You really _are_ a golden boy, Ed." Riley smirks, pumping the keg and pouring himself a cupful of beer. Dipping his fingers into the foam, he flicks some at me playfully before nodding toward the back door. "C'mon, it's stuffy as hell in here."

Following obediently behind him, I scan the crowd for Bella's signature silvery blond head. My gut clenches and twists when I spot her draped over the same dark-skinned guy from lunch earlier this week.

"Fucking Marcus," Riley growls, tearing his eyes away from the same sight. "I'd go over there and fuck him up, but I'm pretty sure I'd be the one leaving here in a stretcher."

"He _is_ pretty big." I affirm, pausing to watch Bella's friend lean into her side before Bella herself turns in our direction and scowls. I see she hasn't gotten over the altercation she had with Riley earlier today. Not that I blame her.

"Fuck him and fuck her. I'm done." Riley mutters bitterly, tossing back his beer before pushing his way through the crowd. I could laugh at how alike they are. It's just so sad that they don't see it.

Still standing in place, I observe as Bella and Marcus disappear around the corner together. I feel compelled to follow them, to stop whatever is going to happen, but I really can't justify doing it. Especially since Riley is so adamant about doing nothing and Bella really isn't my friend. It would be tough to explain why I'm suddenly breaking up their make out session.

Bella's blond friend – whose name escapes me – watches them depart, too. Lips pursed, she drops her shoulders, sighs, and wraps her arms around herself. Hurt and loneliness flashes in her eyes as she drops down on the empty sofa. Her lips screw to the side as she stares down at the phone clenched in her hands, face clearly torn.

This is it, I realize. This is my opening.

"Hey," I greet, smiling gently as I occupy the couch space beside her. "I'm Edward. I don't think we've met, yet."

Eyes wide with surprise, Bella's friend gapes at me for a moment before snapping out of it and giggling nervously. "No, no, we haven't! I'm Jessica, Jess, whatever." Her cheeks fill with color as she glances bashfully down at her feet.

Her shyness is endearing. "Nice to meet you." I nod, tearing my eyes away from her blushing face and scanning the room casually.

"Are you, uh, enjoying the party?" Her voice is timid, hesitant as she attempts to engage me in small talk.

"Sure," I shrug, leaning back into the couch and widening my knees in order to get comfortable. "It's a party. Why are you over here by yourself?"

"Oh," Jess murmurs, glancing down at her phone and shrugging. "I'm here with my friend, but she's… she's busy." Quickly changing the subject, she scoots toward me and leans closer in order to be heard over the thumping music. "You aren't drinking?"

"No," I shake my head, watching her brows draw together in confusion. "I don't need to drink to have fun."

"Huh," She murmurs, tilting her head curiously. "I've never met anyone like you before."

"Like me?" I laugh, flashing a teasing grin. "What – a weirdo?"

"No," She says, stare unwavering and genuine. "Someone confident enough to face mass socialization without using inebriation as a crutch."

"Well," I start, at a loss for words. That was completely unexpected and insightful. I've never thought about it like that. "Yeah, I guess that's true."

"I like you." She smiles goofily, all seriousness melting away with a bat of her blue tinted lashes. "Let's be friends."

"Alright," I chuckle, grasping her extended hand and shaking. "Friends it is."

Bingo – I'm in.

* * *

 **Well, what do we think of Edward's strategy? Is Jess his best way in?**

 **I'll see you guys on Wednesday with Chapter 30. The story is about to shift gears with probably one of the most painful chapters I've written (so far) :/ Don't hate me!**

 **xo j**


	30. Chapter 30

**WARNING: This chapter contains sexual content some might find uncomfortable (i.e. non-canon). Marcus and Bella DO NOT have sex, however, they do kiss and get grabby. Insights on B are spliced within, so I would not recommend skipping this chapter. I've kept descriptions fairly vague here for those of us that are ride-or-die ExB.**

 **girl**

" _Guys… well, we may seem like we like that kind of stuff, but we actually don't."_ Riley's words sound in my head as Marcus turns me to face him. Lids heavy with want and lips parted, Marcus groans as he presses his mouth to mine.

"… _turn over a new leaf,"_ Riley tells me as I fist the back of Marcus' shirt and drag it over his head. _"… try to behave,"_ Riley begs as I eagerly slough off my shirt and step out of my shorts.

"Fuck, you're sexy." Marcus moans, grasping my ass and depositing me on the bathroom counter.

"You, too." I sigh, feathering my fingers over his tight stomach and rubbing my palm over the front of his jeans. The hard bulge I feel there tells me he means it.

His mouth travels from my mouth to my neck to my chest, tongue and teeth teasing the tender flesh there. Closing my eyes against the onslaught of sensations, I wrap my legs around his waist and press myself forward into him. Only his rough jeans separate me from what we both want. From what I want… what I'm good at… what I know… _I'm_ in control.

My hands make quick work of his button and fly. They do this naturally, automatically as if they have a mind of their own. A mind that is attached to my mind. A mind that does _my_ bidding. Because _I_ want this. Because _I_ need this. Because _I'm_ in control.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, cupping my breasts and pressing his face into my neck. "You're killing me…" His fingers close and twist around my nipples, causing sparks of pleasure to shoot through my body. "Ugh, I want you… precious girl."

My stomach instantly plummets. His mouth on my neck is suddenly too hot, too wet, too gross. His fingers on my nipples feel painful and wrong. My skin crawls. Eyes wide open, I don't see Mike's parents' bathroom. I'm somewhere else. It's not Marcus staring back at me with concern. Its someone else. Someone much more sinister. Someone I love and hate and fuck I'm going to be sick.

"Get away from me!" I gasp, pushing at his shoulders with all of my strength.

He stumbles back, tripping over the lip of the tub and falling haphazardly inside. "Jesus, Bella!" He cries out in alarm. "What the fuck?"

Stomach churning, I scramble toward the toilet. Grappling at the lid, I barely get it open before I'm emptying the contents of my stomach.

"Shit!" Marcus curses, extracting himself from the bathtub before quickly pulling my hair away from my face and rubbing his palm down my bare back. "Fuck! I didn't realize you were so drunk, babe."

"Go away!" I groan, pushing his hands away as his touch sends my skin crawling and causes my stomach to heave up another round of vomit. In my mind, I see a similar scene. I feel the same cool porcelain and sick in my stomach, but different hands trace my spine and hold back my hair. Brown hair. Different hair. Virgin hair.

"I'm going to get Riley." Marcus sighs, stepping away from my trembling form. "Please, try to get dressed."

"No!" I call out, twisting toward him and blindly grabbing for his legs. "Get Jess – please – don't get my brother." I might have talked the big talk, but I can't do it. I can't face him. Can't face his judgement, his disappointment. His inability to look and see what's really there. My want for him to see it, to know. My fear of what will happen when he does. To me. To Riley. To _us_. I can't.

"Okay," Marcus sighs, palming the back of my head. A ripple of disgust rolls through my body. I yank my head away and press my face against the toilet as my stomach heaves once again. "I'll be right back." Marcus assures me before ducking out of the room.

Trembling in the eerie silence of the empty bathroom, I finally let the tears fall.

* * *

 **BRB crying.**


	31. Chapter 31

**boy**

"Jess!" Marcus suddenly interrupts, disheveled and breathless. His eyes bounce from her to me and back to her before he continues. "I need your help."

"What is it?" Jess cries, jumping off the couch in alarm. "Where is she?"

"Upstairs," he pants. "I didn't know… she was fine before… and now she's… you have to help me, Jess!"

Pushing a panicked Marcus aside, Jess shoulders through the crowd and disappears around the corner. Standing on the precipice of decision, I quickly weigh my options.

Option A: Get Riley and risk upsetting Bella further.

Option B: Follow Jess and risk overstepping my boundaries.

Option C: Sit back and watch all of this play out from afar.

Considering Riley's drunkenness, disaster is eminent in option A. But, will it damage our friendship if I help his sister out without telling him? Option B is a little presumptuous. I could potentially barge in on a situation where I am neither needed nor welcome. That can really set back the progress – if any – I have made. My moral compass dictates that I do something, so option C is definitely out. This leaves me with A and B.

Decisions, decisions…

Riley be damned, I'm going up there now. Steeling my shoulders and battening down for a fight, I push off the couch and follow Jess upstairs.

The silence that descends upon me as I reach the second-floor landing is deafening. Skin prickling, I spot the strip of light shining like a beacon from beneath the door at the end of the hall. Within a few, quick strides, I'm standing in front of it. Hand on the knob, I take in a deep breath before pushing the door open.

Ache blooms in my chest at the sight that greets me. Jess sits on the floor, arms cradling a tightly curled up Bella. Wiping wet trails of tears from under her own eyes, Jess asks, "Bee, did he… did he hurt you?"

"No," Bella replies automatically, eyes staring blankly ahead. Tired eyes. Unseeing eyes. Haunted eyes.

"Edward," Jess breathes, suddenly glancing up and seeing me standing in the doorway. "What are you…?" She trails off, peering down at Bella anxiously. She's scared that my presence will upset her. I am, too. I contemplate backing out, but the sight of Bella's motionless form is enough keep me in place.

"I'm sorry, I just…" I start, glancing down at a comatose Bella. "Let me help. I want to help."

"I don't know…" Jess sighs, combing her fingers through Bella's hair. "She wouldn't… I don't think she'd feel comfortable with you knowing…"

"Jess," Bella sighs, suddenly semi-lucid as she struggles to sit up. "Let's… let's go home, please. I want to go… now."

"I can drive." I offer, watching the warring emotions flash across Jess' face. "I promise you, you won't find a better option downstairs. I have Riley's car. I'm DDing tonight."

"Okay," Jess relents after a moment of quiet contemplation. "But, you're dropping us off at my place, not hers. Phil would flip, seeing her in this state… She wasn't even supposed to be here, let alone drinking."

"Deal." I nod, helping her up. "Should we let Riley know before we go?"

"No." Bella interjects, swaying as she forces herself up onto her hands and knees. "Let's just go."

"Okay," I nod, stooping to help her stand. "Let me help you."

"Don't touch me." She snarls, violently ripping her arm away and hauling herself to her feet. "I'm not broken. I can walk on my own."

My heart clenches painfully at her words. If only it were that simple.

* * *

 **Poor B... she's so out of it. What will happen next? Monday can't come soon enough. Enjoy your weekend, friends (:**

 **xo j**


	32. Chapter 32

**girl**

Skin prickling and limbs weak, I scramble across the floor to my discarded clothes. Breathing fast and shallow, I fight my way back into my once cute, now ridiculous outfit. Fully clothed, but feeling raw and exposed, I lean back against the bathroom cabinets and wait. Dropping my head against the hard wood, I want to beat the memories, the thoughts, the sensations out of my head. I want to crawl out of my skin. I want to be anyone but me.

Precious girl. Precious girl. Precious girl.

Stomach lurching, I scramble back to the toilet and heave and heave and heave. But nothing comes up.

Nothing, just like me.

Curling up into a tight ball on the cold tile floor, I let the emotions – the panic, the dread, the disgust and shame – consume me.

Precious girl. Precious girl. Precious girl.

-prey-

"Bee," Jess breathes, all shock and anxiety. Her hands are gentle as she drags me into her arms. Warm fingers push back my hair as her uneven breaths lift my head. "Bee, did he…" She can't even form the words. They're not in her vocabulary. She's just one of those people that bad things don't happen to. Lucky her. "Did he hurt you?"

Her definition of _'he'_ would drastically change my answer. "No." My eyes focus on a single spot on the wall as every stroke of her hand against my flesh brings back flashes and flashes of memories – distant and recent and painful and happy and please make it stop.

Stroke. _"Come here, precious girl."_

Stroke. _"This has to be our little secret."_

Stroke. _"You're my everything. You can't know how much I love you."_

Stroke. _"We have to stop. This has to end – but, just once more… tell me you love me."_

Stroke. _"Are you doing this on purpose? Acting this way doesn't make you more attractive or alluring to me. On the contrary, it has the opposite effect. It makes you nothing."_

Stroke. " _Don't cry. Don't blame me. I'm paying attention to you now, aren't I? You did this to yourself."_

There is a low buzzing in my ears. I realize it is the low humming of voices in the room.

"… with you knowing." Jess says, high voice uncertain.

"Jess," I sigh, elbows wobbling as I push myself up. "Let's… let's go home, please. I want to go… now." My eyes burn from crying. My throat is raw from throwing up. My head is pounding from… everything. I just want to sleep. I just want to escape into my dream world where everything is perfect and nothing hurts.

My eyes close as a wave of exhaustion rolls over me. The world goes black, spinning as my head lolls back and my elbows wobble. I need to get out of here before I crash.

"Should we let Riley know before we go?"

"No." The word is exorcised out of me as be my body jerks forward in an effort to lift itself off of the floor. "Let's just go."

"Okay, let me help you." Male hands grasp my biceps, pulling me to my feet like I weigh nothing. The hands and the motion pull me backwards in time.

Large fingers bite into my skin. A stern frown set in a handsome face greets me as my bleary eyes lift.

"Don't touch me." I tell him, despite the emotions warring inside me. I look down and my tired eyes see little legs with little feet. Sparkly nail polish on tiny toes. Knees rubbed raw. Angry red handprints blooming on narrow thighs. "I'm not broken. I can walk on my own."

I stand because I have to. I walk because I need to. I don't even feel the people pushing against me as I wade through the crowded party. My body sighs in relief as I slide into the back seat of the car. The window is cool against my face as I lie against it.

Exhaustion pulls me under, bringing blackness with it. I don't panic. I don't fight it. I willingly succumb to it. I welcome it.

* * *

 **I hurt for her :/ B doesn't even seem to realize or care who is helping her. Do you think she'll be upset about it later on?**

 **See you all Wednesday (:**

 **xo j**


	33. Chapter 33

**boy**

Safely tucked into Riley's car, I follow Jess' quiet directions and navigate away from Mike's party. In the back seat, Bella's head lolls against the window as she slips into unconsciousness.

"Does she always do… _this_ … at parties?" I probe as I take a left onto the main street. The world is dark around us, save for the narrow strips that are illuminated by the car's high-beams.

"No," Jess sighs, drooping in her seat and rubbing at her eyes. After a moment of silence, she drops her head back and quietly amends her previous statement. "Well, sometimes."

"That must be tough to deal with… You're a good friend." I observe her reaction in my peripherals. She palms her face, fingers digging into her forehead as she sighs.

"I try to be." She says after a long stretch of silence. "We've been inseparable since the sixth grade. Back then, she wasn't so… wild. Sometimes, I feel like she's trying to prove a point. What she's proving and to whom – I don't know."

Mulling it over, I decide to push just a little bit more. "Do you… do you feel like something weird is going on with her? At home, or something?"

"At home?" Jess repeats, peering out the window through narrowed lids. "Bella is very closed off, especially when it comes to her family. I know her home life isn't the best. She lost her dad the year before she moved here and her step dad, Phil, pretty much slotted right into that role. He's very strict, but he has to be… He's pretty much the only thing holding that family together. Bella's mom… well, she hasn't been all there for a while now."

"Wow," I murmur, cataloguing this new information for later exploration.

"I don't know why I'm telling you all of this." Jess sighs, shaking her head. "It's not like you care about our drama… well, _her_ drama." She nods her head at Bella's unconscious form slumped in the back seat. "Thanks for the ride, by the way. You didn't have to do this, but… I'm happy you did."

"It was my pleasure." I assure her, putting the car in park as I pull into her driveway. "I'm happy to help… and to listen whenever you need me to. That's what friends are for, right?"

"Right," Jess nods, smiling faintly. "Thanks, friend. Now, help me carry this dead body up to my room. I don't want to wake up my mom."

Chuckling at her attempted joke, I jump out of the car to help her. Holding an unconscious Bella in my arms, I can't help but glance down at her periodically. Lips parted in her sleep, she lets out the smallest, alcohol-tinged puffs of air. Her purplish, translucent lids are framed by long, dark lashes, which fan out against her sallow cheeks. Even in illness and disrepair, she is breathtakingly beautiful.

Cradling the back of her head, I gently place her onto Jess' bed. _'What secrets do you keep?'_ I can't help but wonder as my fingers gently slide out from under her delicate neck.

"Thank you." Jess sighs, stepping up and palming my shoulder blade.

"Happy to help." I nod, stuffing my hands into my back pockets and tearing my eyes away from Bella's sleeping form. It feels wrong to look at her like this. Especially since she seems to dislike me so much when she's lucid. I feel like I'm trespassing, in some way.

My phone vibrating in my pocket draws my attention away. Riley's name flashes across the screen. "I have to go." I tell Jess, silencing and pocketing the vibrating device. "It's Riley."

"Right." Jess nods, crossing her arms over her chest. "Drive safe."

"Thanks." I attempt a smile, glancing over at Bella one last time before backing out of the room. "I'll see you at school."

"Sure." Jess nods, toeing off her shoes. "See you."

-prey-

The party is winding down by the time I make it back to Mike's.

"Where were you?" Riley slurs, bumping into the wall as he stumbles outside to meet me in the front lawn. "Been looking for you all night."

"Sorry," I murmur, grasping his arm to steady him as steps onto the sidewalk. "Jeez, Riley, how much did you drink?"

"Enough," Riley burps, allowing me to hoist him into the passenger seat of the car. "Have you seen my sister?"

"I, uh, I actually just dropped her off at Jessica's house."

"Mm," Riley hums, dropping his head back on the headrest. "Good. Thanks. I don't… want her to see me like this." He and his sister are living in parallel universes and he has no idea. It would be comical if it wasn't so sad.

After a beat of silence, he continues. "Can I… stay at your house tonight?"

"Um," I start, taken aback by his question. "Sure," I tell him, and then decide to probe deeper into his motivation. "Why?"

"Phil." He shrugs, staring up at the roof of his car. His hands subconsciously tighten into fists in his lap at the mention of his name. "Don't feel like dealing with all of that tonight."

"I'm sorry, man." I sigh, not sure what else to say. I don't blame him. I would do the same if I had such a tumultuous relationship with my dad.

"Yeah," he shrugs, dropping his chin to his chest and letting out a harsh breath. After a moment of tense silence, he lifts his head and fixes me with an intense stare. Eyes bloodshot and mouth parted by jagged, uneven breaths, he whispers his next words lowly. "He tried to kiss me once, you know?"

* * *

 **Um, what? Come again, Riley? Raise your hand if you were expecting that.**

 ***crickets* *crickets***

 **I thought so. What now? I guess we'll see next chapter!**

 **xo j**


	34. Chapter 34

**Special thanks to SunflowerFran for keeping me and my writing in check. (:**

 **boy**

"When?" I breathe, heart thundering in my chest. This is the furthest thing I expected him to admit. But, now that he's talking, I can't let him stop. Not when it's about this, about abuse.

Riley's bloodshot eyes narrow minutely before swinging away. His lashes drop and lift as he blinks, eyes staring into the nothingness beyond the window.

Expression troubled, he begins to speak. "Eighth grade." His voice is thin, raspy, whispery as he speaks through his emotion. "He knew all this stuff about baseball. He was my hero. I needed a hero really bad, back then. My dad had just died … my mom was … well, she wasn't really my mom anymore. I was … vulnerable and needy. And then … one day we were out in the yard and he just … tried to kiss me on the, on the mouth. And I just … froze."

"What happened after?" My lips barely move as I grind out the words. Phil is clearly a sick person, taking advantage of a vulnerable child like that. Fury bubbles within me, but I push it down. It's not helpful. Not right now.

"Nothing." Riley sighs, dropping his head back against the seat. "I said 'never touch me like that again,' and he didn't. End of story. Well, not really. He's hated me ever since."

"Wow." I breathe, for lack of better words. His admission is shocking. However, it certainly explains the tense relationship between Riley and Phil. I just have to wonder if anyone else knows about this. "Have you … told anyone else?"

"No." Riley shakes his head vigorously. "No, never. And no one else will ever know about this, either. This is… _my_ secret to tell, Ed."

"Okay," I nod, feeling sick, but acquiescing because it's what Riley wants. "Your secret is safe with me." He trusted me with it, so it has to be.

-prey-

Saturday morning finds me on my couch with Riley and my PlayStation. He seems content to ignore last night's admission. I'm not sure how to broach the topic but I know I need to. This isn't something I can just ignore.

"Last night," I start, pressing rapidly on the controller buttons. "You … told me something."

"Yeah, what?" Riley asks, peering at me curiously. "I was pretty banged up."

"Yeah, uh, I know." I bite my bottom lip, taking a deep breath before continuing. "It was … about Phil."

"What about him?" Riley says, voice hesitant, but also biting as he replies.

"How … um … how he tried to kiss you a while back."

Riley's silent for a bit after that. Skin tingling with anxiety, I sit next to him and watch our characters take down zombies on the TV. We move through a few levels in silence. Him, stewing wordlessly. Me, filled with uncertainty.

Was this a good time to bring this up? Judging by his reaction – it wasn't. God, I need more tact.

"Just forget I even said that." Riley says suddenly, fingers pressing hard against his controller. So hard, I can hear it – every poke and prod. I have a fleeting thought that he might break it – the controller – but I can't find it in me to care. That's the least of my worries right now. "He never kissed me. Nothing happened."

"But you – " I start, but he cuts me off.

"Look, it's embarrassing enough to carry the memory." Riley snaps, pressing pause on the game and pushing himself off the couch. His shoulders rise and fall as he takes in a deep breath and shakes his head. "But … to have other people know that my stepfather was, well, gay for me when I was fourteen; it's just … too much, man. I don't want to have to think about it any more than I already do. So please, just drop it." Staring at me hard, Riley attempts a tense laugh before shoving his fingers through his wild, dark hair. "I better go. I'm hungover like a dog, and I'm feeling like a nap. I'll see you at school."

"Okay." I nod, swallowing back discomfort as Riley disappears around the corner and slips out of the front door. I don't know how I expected the conversation to go, but it wasn't like this. I know it's the type of secret people keep for a lifetime. He seemed to be getting on just fine before with this secret stored deep within. But, for some reason, Riley offered it up to me – a person he's known for all but a week – on a silver platter. Now, it seems, he'd prefer to take it all back.

I don't blame him. From the look on his face, I can tell that Riley _is_ truly embarrassed by what happened between the two of them back then. Nothing similar has ever happened to me, but I can imagine he feels a mixture of confusion, disgust, and betrayal when he thinks about it. Phil was a trusted adult and someone who helped Riley through the pain of losing his father. Coming onto him like that, well, it was a betrayal of the relationship they had built.

The question left on my mind is this: What is Phil's _true_ preference? Little boys? Or is it just vulnerable children? Either way, I don't think any child in the Dwyer household is safe. Something has to be done. And I think Riley has to be the one to say something.

* * *

 **Welp, there it is! What do you guys think? E's been given a lot information tonight, huh?**

 **Chapter 35 will be up tomorrow, so I'll see you guys then!**

 **xo j**


	35. Chapter 35

**Special thanks to SunflowerFran for keeping me and my writing in check. (:**

 **girl**

My eyes, stinging from abuse and crusted with mascara, lift and blink against the cold blast of the air conditioning. My skin pebbles and crawls, a fine layer of sweat, salt, and shame making me shift in discomfort. Dry lips part, and are brushed by a sandpapery tongue.

Hell is a place within me.

Arms that are weakened by dehydration lift me from the bed. Wobbly legs carry me into the bathroom. The person that stares back at me in the mirror is a nightmare. Matted hair frames a sickly face with dark slashes as eyes. I'm not her, but she is me.

Hot water beats down on me from above, calming the tremble in my limbs. Slowly, I work a bar of soap over my skin, eyes closing against the slippery wrongness that flares up within me. There's a fire at the base of my skull, pulsing down my spine, and coursing through the rest of my body. My insides ache, their singed remains revolting against the feeling.

Why now? I was doing just fine before. I would do anything not to feel this anymore. I would do anything to regain control of myself; of my emotions. I promised myself I wouldn't let him do this to me anymore; control me like this. Even now, I feel the ghost of his fingers on my skin, inside of me, wrapping around my throat, and delivering blow after blow to my quivering flesh.

My arms wrap around my middle as I drop to my knees in the tub. I had hoped the memories would be swept away by my dreams as I slept. That's how it used to work, in the beginning. No such luck, now. No, now I'm left kneeing here, a shell of a person mourning the intangible insides that were ripped from me.

I need to make this stop.

Tapping into the small well of inner strength that remains within me, I push myself up from the ground and out of the shower. Dressing quickly in my wrinkled clothes from last night, I snatch my discarded purse from the floor and fish out my phone. Fingers trembling, I tap out a quick text.

 _Will u come get me? I'm w Jess_

The reply is instantaneous.

 _Be there in 5_

Sighing in relief, I turn to Jess' white, princess vanity table and hastily begin removing the remnants of last night's make up. It comes away easily, leaving my eyes looking red and raw. It will have to do. Finger combing my hair flat, I jump up from my seat and dart quickly down the stairs.

Time to make my great escape.

* * *

 **It's the day after and Bella is feeling rough still. Who is the "he" that she is referring to? Who did she text?**

 **I am so glad that you all are still on board with me through this long, angsty ride! I promise that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, as well as answers to the many questions you all have had! See you all tomorrow with Chapter 36 (:**

 **xo j**


	36. Chapter 36

**Thank you to those that keep coming back for more and the angel that is SunflowerFran! You all are the best! (:**

 **girl**

No such luck.

"Hey," Dana greets me as my feet stumble upon the first-floor landing. "You're up early. Where's Jess?"

"Still asleep." I murmur, ducking into the kitchen and peering into the pots simmering on the stove. "What's for breakfast?"

"Biscuits and gravy," Dana smirks, stirring the creamy mixture with a flourish. "Are you sticking around long enough to eat?"

Her question is punctuated by the loud honk of a car horn from out front. The sound makes my shoulders tense and relax all at once.

"Well, I guess that answers my question." Dana states wryly.

"Yeah," I shrug, staring at the space just beyond her shoulder. My eyes zone out as my inner monologue takes over.

What would Dana think if she knew about the demons that plague me? Would her sweet, motherly smile fall? Would she call me names? Would she take Jess away from me? That thought alone has me shutting my mouth tight. No, she can't ever know. No one can ever know. "I-I have to go," I mutter, attempting a weak smile. "My ride is waiting. Thanks … for everything, Dana."

"Of course, sweetheart." Dana murmurs, stepping forward and enveloping me in a gentle, but snug, embrace. "Anything you need, I'm there. I hope you don't mind me saying this, but you're like another daughter to me."

Her soft, soothing palms stroke my back as she pulls away. The faint smile on her face has tears flooding my eyes, threatening to spill over onto my cheeks. The words press forward against my tongue. I want to tell her, and, in my mind, I do. I tell her. I tell her everything. The words tumble from me like a burst dam, unloading years and years of hurt, shame, misplaced love, and insecurity. As the words come out, her face changes. The light in her eyes dies, taking with it the security and comfort I had once felt in her presence.

" _You're a liar."_ Imaginary Dana tells me. Her eyes are hard, hateful as she stares back at me. Behind her, Jess peers around the doorway, eyes just as dark and judgmental as her mother's.

No. No, I can't. I swallow down the rush of words, the stumbling confession, my deepest, darkest secret and give Dana a small smile. "I don't mind." And then, after a short stretch of silence, I step away. "I have to go."

Dana's eyes crinkle as she smiles and nods, turning back to the breakfast on the stove. I make it outside in three deep breaths. Standing on the steps, I peer down at the car that idles in the driveway.

A cherry red mustang all done up to the nines. Paint all sparkly and bright, sun glinting off its surface like a metallic wink. It's fitting. Just the sight of the car is a promise of danger. A rush of adrenaline. An all-consuming fire that devours and leaves charred nothingness in its path.

The driver leans over the center console, throwing the passenger door open in his impatience. I follow his cue, feet tripping over one another as I trot down the stairs and slide into the waiting seat. Warm leather and the strong smell of mint, weed, and spicy boy greet me as I buckle myself in.

"Hey," I turn to him, grinning and tucking my trembling hands between my thighs. Trembling because I know this is it. This will help. No more. I won't feel this anymore.

"Busy bee," James murmurs, lips pulling into a slow, sensuous grin. "It's been way too long, babe."

It's been weeks since I've seen him. I gave in and made a house call at James' place when the thoughts, the memories, the feelings were unbearable. Jasper had asked me out on a date. Asked me out to _dinner_. Just the word alone had my hackles rising and bile crawling up my throat. I needed to slow down. I needed to shut up the cacophony of thoughts that were swirling around in my head.

James is good for that.

* * *

 **Welp, here we go again! B continues down the path to destruction! Where does it end?**

 **More on Wednesday (:**

 **xo j**


	37. Chapter 37

**I have a lot of things to be thankful for - you and SunflowerFran are just two of them. (:**

 **boy**

"Edward, son, wake up!" Dad calls, tramping through my room and jostling me awake.

"What?" I murmur, sitting up slowly and rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Dad grins. "Quite the opposite, actually." Smirking, he tosses me a small bundle, which I clumsily bobble before grasping it fully in my hands. Peering down, I realize it's actually a set of car keys. Mouth agape, I glance up at him in shock.

"Surprise!" Dad flares his hands out, fingers wiggling dramatically.

"Dad," I say, still holding the keys in my hand uncertainly. I'm sure I look like I don't know what to do with them. Which, let's be honest here, I don't. "My birthday was in June."

"Yeah, I know it was, son." Dad rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "We didn't have the funds to make a car happen for you in June. But, now, we do."

My head puts two and two together quickly. We didn't have the funds before, but we do now. Dad's only client is Phil Dwyer. Phil Dwyer's money paid for this car. And no amount of 'cleaning' can wash the blood off that money.

"Why are we here, Dad?"

Dad's brows pull together at my question. He – I'm sure – sees it as unrelated. "What do you mean, son? We're here for my job."

"But why?" I probe, sitting up and wetting my lips before continuing. "What are you 'cleaning' for Phil Dwyer?"

Dad's face breaks into a grin as he laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. "You shouldn't believe everything they say on the internet, son. I'm not some situation fixer. I can't make scandals disappear. I'm just a regular ole' campaign manager."

After a beat, Dad shakes his head and combs his fingers through his hair roughly. "Is that all?"

"He's gay, isn't he?" The question slips through my lips without my permission. Dad and I sit and stare at each other for a moment. His brows crinkle together as he peers at me curiously.

"Phil?" Dad clarifies although I'm sure he knows that's who I meant. "No, he's not gay, son. That's ludicrous. Who told you that? Riley? Isabella? I told you to leave those kids alone."

"I-I'm not at liberty to disclose that information," I mutter, peering down at the car keys clenched in my hands.

"Oh?" Dad laughs. "You're not? Well, you can tell your source to go on ahead and spread that rumor around town. My team will be happy to dispel it."

After a beat of tense silence, Dad shakes his head and lets out an incredulous laugh. "Unbelievable," he murmurs, moving to back out of the room.

"How about a pedophile?" I call after him. Dad stops in his tracks, turning and stepping back into my bedroom doorway.

"What did you say?" Dad asks, brows low over his eyes. I've never seen him look like this before. A muscle twitches in his jaw. His eyes literally burn. I've struck a nerve.

"I said, 'how about a pedophile'? What if that was the rumor that was spread around town?" My voice is brave despite the quivering in my hands.

"Now, Edward, that's one big accusation to be throwing around. You could ruin a man's life, calling him that." Dad's lips curl down into a deep frown. "You'd have to have proof, which you won't find since Phil isn't what you've said he is."

Scowling, Dad continues. "So, I wouldn't go buying into whatever she's told you. There's a reason I told you to stay away from that girl. It has nothing to do with me covering something up, and everything do with me trying to protect you. That girl is poison."

Everything _she's_ told me … He thinks I've been talking to Bella about this. Whatever he's covering up, it has nothing to do with what happened to Riley in eighth grade.

Heart thundering in my chest, I realize my earlier question has just been answered. Phil isn't just into little boys. No, he doesn't discriminate by sex. Instead, he has a different qualifier.

Phil is a predator. And vulnerable children are his prey.

"You can have the car," I tell him, tossing the keys in his general vicinity. "I don't want it. Not when it was bought using Phil's blood money."

"Blood money?" Dad laughs sarcastically. "Be real, son. All money is blood money, no matter who it comes from or how they've earned it." Dad sighs before strolling over to my desk and dropping the keys on top. "I'll just leave these here. In case you change your mind."

"I won't." I assure him, brows raised in challenge. "And I won't let this go. Not when there are people getting hurt."

"You're wrong about that." Dad sighs, knocking his knuckles against my doorframe before stepping out into the hall.

Is he so blinded by money that he doesn't care? I ask myself as I get up and close my door. Or is he not privy to the full picture? It's hard for me to believe that my dad is this guy. But it is becoming glaringly obvious.

Phil hired my father to cover up his abuse.

And that's illegal on so many levels.

* * *

 **Holy... Ed Sr., say what? Reactions - send me your reactions! Is there a l** **ynch mob forming?**

 **What's next for our Rebel _With_ A Cause? Find out tomorrow. (:**

 **xo j**


	38. Chapter 38

**Hi all - long time, no update! I know, I suck! Thank you all so much for patiently waiting for me to get my act together (: Enjoy!**

 **girl**

The room spins as I rise. It's an empty room, save for the large bed that I currently occupy. Crude, red letters blink down at me.

I know where I am instantly.

James.

"Good morning, beautiful." Speak – or think – of the devil, and he shall appear. Wearing nothing but a sunny smile, James dives into the bed beside me. "I was wondering when you'd resurface."

Pushing myself into a sitting position, I glance down at my clothes and frown. "Did you change me?"

"Yeah," James shrugs. "You … you had a bad time, babe. Started clawing at yourself, your clothes, pretty much everything. You undressed yourself, and I waited until you calmed down to put you in something more comfortable than those sexy little shorts you were wearing."

"Oh," I murmur. "Um, thanks."

"No problem." James lays his head in my lap, peering up at me through a thick fan of blond lashes. He really is handsome. I look away. "You, um, kept asking for help."

"I'm sure," I nod, biting into my lip. I don't remember much from yesterday. He brought me here straight from Jess,' and I immediately went under. Everything after that is shrouded in darkness; an empty gap in my memory. I'm thankful for that. "Bad trip, and all."

"Sure," James nods, adjusting his head on my lap. "It's just … you kept calling out this guy's name."

"I don't – " I start, stopping when James sits suddenly and stares at me straight-on.

"Phil." He says eyes narrowed. "Isn't that your stepdad's name?"

"Forget about it," I tell him, moving to get up. "I need to get home."

"I…" He trails off, following me as I tug his shirt over my head and pull mine over my naked flesh. "Bella, if he's hurting you…"

"He's not." I snap, yanking my jean shorts over my legs. "Please, just drop it, James. I don't want to talk about this."

"I know I'm not, like, considered a 'good guy,'" James mutters, putting air quotes around the term _good guy_. "But I can recognize when someone needs help. And, Bella, baby, you need some serious help. I know this is the last thing you want to hear right now, especially since I can see you come here to … to escape whatever it is that happens at home. And if it's what I think it is – which I'm pretty sure it is, judging by your reaction – you really need to tell someone. Tell a teacher. Tell a cop. Hell, tell your mom! Just … don't let this asshole keep doing this to you."

"I…" I begin, turning to face him. His eyes shine back at me, lit with utter sincerity. He was supposed to be an escape. He wasn't supposed to care about me, about anything. He's a _drug dealer_ , damn it! I was supposed to be safe from all of _this_. Safe from prying eyes that look and see what is simmering beneath my pretty, polished surface. Safe from falsity and explanations. Safe from fucking feelings.

"I'm sorry." I gasp, turning away from the emotions I see reflected in his face. "I have to go."

"Please," he calls out to me, voice desperate. "Tell someone, Bella! Please!"

With legs like Jell-O, I do what I do best – I run.

I run all the way home.

I run up the driveway.

I run up the front steps.

I run through the foyer and down the hall. I even run up the stairs, stopping only when I reach my room. Not because I've reached my destination. But, because of what waits for me there.

Phil.

* * *

 **Oh boy. I can't wait to hear your thoughts!**

 **See you all tomorrow (:**

 **xo j**


	39. Chapter 39

**Hi all - happy Friday (: Thanks - as always - for the love & support! Enjoyyyy (:**

 **boy**

My clammy hands jerkily navigate through the search engine results. Website after website, the words jump off the page at me. And as I continue to read, the more the feeling of dread settles within the pit of my stomach.

Sudden mood swings.

" _She was such a good, sweet little girl growing up - goofy, even! Then - BAM - something inside her shifted. I blame it on puberty."_

 _Bella's lifeless form coming alive with a sudden snarl. "Don't touch me. I'm not broken. I can walk on my own."_

New or unusual fear of certain people or places.

 _Bella's animalistic terror reflected back at me through the rearview mirror after Riley asked her if she'd be present at dinner._

Drug and alcohol abuse.

" _Does she always do…_ this _… at parties?"_

" _No… Well, sometimes."_

Sexual promiscuity.

" _We're all guilty of looking at one point or another. I mean, with the way she acts, she's dying to be looked at – amongst other things."_

" _Well, when she's not begging to be fucked..."_

 _Sitting on Marcus' lap during_ _lunch … disappearing upstairs at the party with him …_

Mind reeling, I realize the signs are all well and truly there. Breathless, I read on.

Since children rarely admit to being sexually abused, it's vital that parents, family

members and friends keep an eye out for the following behavior of an adult:

Refusal to give the child privacy or the ability to make their own decisions on personal

matters.

" _He's very strict, but he has to be…"_

" _Phil would flip, seeing her in this_ _state … She_ _wasn't even supposed to be here, let alone drinking."_

Abnormal interest in child/teenager sexual development.

" _A sophomore. Pretty thing. Popular with the boys, he says."_

Pushing physical affection on a child when it's obvious the child doesn't want it.

" _And then … one day we were out in the yard and he just … tried to kiss me on the, on the mouth. And I just … froze."_

Treating a certain child differently than others, treating them as their 'favorite' or

special.

" _He knew all this stuff about baseball. He was my hero. I needed a hero really bad, back then."_

Picking on a certain child.

" _He's hated me ever since."_

My back straightens against my desk chair. My dad was wrong. I've spent less than five minutes in Phil Dwyer's presence, yet the evidence I have of him being a pedophile is right there.

The need to do something about this discovery is like an unrelenting itch within my brain. Someone needs to talk. People need to know. Phil needs to be arrested.

I swallow hard as the next thought flares up in my mind.

My father needs to be arrested.

Mind whirring, I fist my hair in frustration. I don't know where to start. Do I call the cops? Or should I confront Bella, or even Riley? Do I take a less aggressive approach and talk to the school counselor?

The sheer number of approaches overwhelms me. Tears well in my eyes as I drop my head onto the surface of my desk. There are so many factors in this situation; so many forces at play. And I'm just a fucking kid. Who is going to believe me? Especially since Phil has everyone fooled and the victims seem to content to keep their mouths shut.

There's got to be a way for me to get them to talk …

I jolt upright when it dawns on me. Riley … he doesn't know about Bella. At least, it doesn't seem like he does. He's told me several times that he loves her, and he gets into physical fights with guys over her … If I tell him my suspicions, he might be compelled to speak up.

Scrambling to my feet, I don't even bother to change out of my pajamas before flying down the stairs and out of the front door. The grass is cold and wet against my flesh, as my feet quickly squelch through the strip of lawn that separates our houses.

Breathless and covered in a fine mist of sweat, I clomp up the Dwyer's' front steps and lift my hand to knock on the front door. My brows draw together as the door swings open under my fist.

My stomach tightens in alarm. People in this neighborhood don't just leave their front doors open.

Something is very wrong here.

* * *

 **Ruh roh. Things are starting to heat up! What lies behind door #1 for Edward?**

 **Find out on Monday!**

 **xo j**


	40. Chapter 40

**WARNING: This chapter contains content that hints at the physical and sexual abuse of a minor. If you are triggered by these topics, proceed with caution.**

 **girl**

"What are you doing in my room?" My voice echoes in my head, sounding much stronger than I really am. My face feels hot and tight, while my chest heaves with shallow, anxious breaths.

I hate that he has this power over me.

"Where were you last night?" Phil asks, turning away from my window and pinning me under his penetrating gaze. The look in his eyes has me subconsciously tensing, bracing myself for the violence that his glinting blue irises promise.

I square my jaw, resolving not to answer him. It's better for me to keep quiet when he's like this. Lying makes him hit harder. Telling the truth makes him draw it out. Silence is boring. That's what I've learned this past year.

"I spoke to Dana Stanley yesterday afternoon. She said you were picked up from her house early Saturday morning." Phil tilts his head curiously, eyes glinting sadistically as he strokes his chin. He loves this, playing games with me. "Remind me, what day is it?"

"Sunday." My chin quivers as I answer him.

Don't cry. Don't show weakness.

Head up.

Shoulders back.

Gaze steady.

Jaw set.

"So, tell me," Phil murmurs, taking a menacing step toward me. "If you left Dana Stanley's house on Saturday morning, why are you just now getting home?"

Silence.

Jaw clenched, I lift my chin high and prepare for his retaliation. A slap, a punch, a kick, a bite – his preferences are as diverse and unpredictable as his moods.

Part of me hopes he'll leave me alone.

Part of me yearns for his attention – any and all that I can get.

My behavior is frequently ruled by the latter. I wish I could suppress that part of me, but, all too often, it's the former that is repressed, making me this pathetic girl acting out in desperation. It's so deeply ingrained within me, it's almost instinctual.

Phil stares at me for a moment, eyes dropping to examine my outfit and the skin it leaves bare. "Are you _trying_ to provoke me?" His voice is eerily calm despite the furious set of his jaw. "Dressed like a dirty little slut … and smelling like you just got off a two-day bender…"

The world goes black as I stumble back against my dresser. My hand lifts, fingers tracing the hot flesh where the back of his hand met the apple of my cheek.

"Don't you dare fucking cry." He grinds out, gripping my shoulders and crushing me against him. "This is all your fault." His thumbs press into the hollow space below my collarbones, making me cry out in pain and thrash against his hold.

"You cried and begged me to pay attention to you when I told you we had to stop." He growls against my cheek, one hand holding me against his chest while the other divests me of my shorts, fumbling with the zip and button before yanking them hastily down my legs. "Now you cry and complain when I do. What is it that you want?" My shorts fall to the floor with an audible plop. The sound makes me flinch; makes me squeeze my legs together and turn my face away.

His fingers grasp and lift my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his. Gone is the hardness and violence that was once there. Instead, my eyes are greeted by warm, liquid blue. He blinks and a lone tear trails down his cheek.

My breath is expelled from my lungs in a whoosh that is part longing and part relief. No more is he Mr. Hyde. No, standing in front of me is a handsome man with wide, wet eyes.

Dr. Jekyll.

"Tell me," he murmurs, hands soft on the back of my neck and throbbing cheek. "Why are you doing this to me, precious girl?" His mouth covers mine, and I clench my eyes shut against the ache that wells in my chest. Tearing himself away with a pained cry, he presses his lips against my hot cheek. "Why do you make me hit you? You're tearing me up inside, baby. I hate hurting you like this."

My heart hammers in my chest. My hands clench and twist in the material of his shirt, desperately trying to make this side of him stay. The side of him that is soft, loving, gentle. The side of him that owns me; controls me. The side of him that I so desperately love and long for.

"I love you so much." He cries against my cheek, his tears mixing with mine as we grasp desperately at each other. I've heard this all before, so it shouldn't affect me, but it does. "Please. Please, tell me that you still do. Tell me I didn't ruin everything."

The room is filled with the sound of our quiet breaths as my heart aches, and my mind stumbles through thoughts and feelings.

I do.

I don't.

I hate him.

I love him.

He hurts me.

He pleases me.

He kills me.

He gives me life.

I want him so badly, yet he disgusts me.

He's ruined me … and I've ruined him.

I start to answer him, when the sound of the front door banging against the wall echoes through the house. Phil instantly jumps away, and his eyes meet mine. They're stormy and hard.

"Who's that? Who's here?" He hisses, jaw clenched like his fists at his side. "Did you invite someone over, thinking I wasn't going to be here? One of your boys from school? Or that drug dealer boyfriend you've been trying to hide from me?"

I hold back a gasp as he grabs me by the hair and wrenches me against him. "I should have known." Releasing me with a shove, he palms his hair into submission and scowls at me. "Stay here. I'll handle this."

Eyes prickling with unshed tears, I lean heavily against my dresser and watch him disappear down the stairs. My mind, body, and soul feel beat, and I know, now that his mood has shifted once again, that I'm in for more. That is if it's not Riley or Mom or Mrs. Cope down there. If it is, Phil will have no choice but to leave me alone. For now, at least.

The sound of distinctly male voices floats up the stairs, causing me to shift against the dresser in indecision. I should stay and wait for Phil to return … but curiosity is getting the best of me.

Yanking my shorts up my legs, I quickly wipe at my face and tuck my wild hair behind my ears. Creeping from my room, I slowly descend the stairs and peer down at the scene unfolding below. Standing in the doorway is Phil, but just beyond his shoulder, I spot a shock of familiar hair.

Edward.

My foot catches on the step.

The ground rushes up at my face.

Blackness.

* * *

 **I'm just going to ... yeah ...**


	41. Chapter 41

**Thank you all for all of the love and support. And thank you Fran for making me look good (:**

 **boy**

Eerie silence greets me as I take a tentative step into the house.

Is anyone home? I want to call out, but the words die in my throat as the foyer is filled with the sound of thunderous footsteps descending the stairs.

Phil.

His jaw is clenched in fury as he jogs down the last steps, but his face changes when he sees me. "Oh," his tone is colored by confusion as he pulls his fingers hastily through his blond coif. "Edward, I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting your company today."

"I'm sorry to intrude." I grind out, watching Phil's shoulders sag in relief. Something is going on here. "I went to knock on the door, but it was already open and swung against the wall. I hope it didn't cause any damage to the plaster…"

"Even so, it's fine." Phil smiles, patting my back as he begins ushering me out the same way I just entered. "Well, I'm sorry to say that if you had plans with Riley, he's not home. So, you'll just have to come back later."

"Oh," I mutter dumbly, stopping on the front steps and turning back to face Phil. "Well, is Bella home? I wanted to ask her something about school…" The lie slips from my lips smoothly.

Phil's shoulders tense minutely at the mention of Bella, but he just as quickly shrugs it off. "Yes, but she's not well. I was actually on the way to the pharmacy to get her some medication."

"Oh," my mind sputters as it works to find a way to get some alone time – even if it's just a minute – with Bella. I don't know what I'll say to her, but I'm sure I'll come up with something at the moment. Hopefully, it will be convincing. "I can stay with her while you're out – just to make sure she doesn't get worse."

"Thank you for being so thoughtful." Phil grimaces, clapping me on the back. "But that won't be necessary. It's only a little cold, and Bella isn't in the mood for company. I'm sure your question can wait until school tomorrow."

As Phil speaks, a loud thud reverberates through the house. Scowling, Phil leans back through the doorway and sighs. "Look," he mutters, shutting the door firmly behind him. "I need to jet."

"But, is everything all right in there?" Panic wells up inside me as Phil just shrugs and locks the front door. "What was that noise?"

"That was Bella," Phil smirks, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest as he jogs down the front step. "I guess she got impatient and threw a book down the stairs to remind me about the medicine."

"Oh." I'm not sure if a book could have made that loud of a noise, but questioning him at this point seems moot. I'll just have to wait until he leaves to make my move.

"Yeah, see what I said? Not in the mood for visitors." Smiling wryly, he jogs down the rest of the stairs and walks briskly to the sleek sports car parked in the driveway. "I'll tell Riley you stopped by. It was nice seeing you, Edward."

Nodding mutely, I wade through the damp grass and duck back into my house. Watching him from the front windows, I gnaw my lip and wait until I'm certain he's disappeared from sight before dashing back across the yard and up the Dwyer's front steps.

Laying my ear against the door, I strain to hear any sound of activity beyond the thick wood. Nothing. Frowning, I step back and rap my knuckles against the door.

Nothing.

"Bella?" I call out in desperation.

Nothing.

Fuck.

Helplessness crawls up my spine as I back away from the door and fist my hair in frustration. Something is so very, very wrong here. I can just feel it. I need to do something.

Breathing deeply, I scan the façade of the house – looking for a way to get in or _look_ in. Instantly, I spot the long front windows that are partially blocked by potted plants and a porch swing. Shaking with unrestrained energy and nerves, I hastily push those obstacles aside to reach the nearest window. Peering through the heavily shaded glass, I can faintly make out the bottom half of the stairwell as well as the foyer below. Scanning the area, I let out a startled breath when I spot the motionless form slumped on the bottom two steps.

It's Bella. And I can't tell if she's breathing.

Decision blooms in my mind, sending my limbs into action. Phone in hand, my fingers don't tremble as they tap out the numbers. Holding the device to my ear, I take in a steady breath as it rings.

"9-1-1. What's your emergency?"

* * *

 **Oh, that was just Bella ... falling down the stairs. No big deal. Sheesh, what a scum bag. What do you all think? Are we ready for the authorities to get involved? Is Bella?**

 **See you all on Friday!**

 **xo j**


	42. Chapter 42

**girl**

A dull thump at the base of my skull.

Throbbing in my cheek.

Soreness in my limbs.

I feel like I've been hit by a bus.

Consciousness rushes up and hits me in the face, battering the flesh that is already split open wide from Phil's abuse and my little tumble down the stairs. My head throbs as I push myself to my knees. The room spins, and I lean heavily against the banister with a groan.

Fuck.

The pounding in my skull intensifies. I blink away black spots and palm my aching head. I need to get up, drag myself to my room before anyone else gets home. I've been lucky enough as it is. Staying here is pushing it.

A sharp knock sounds at the front door.

Fuck.

Groaning, I mull over my options. I can lie here and wait it out, hoping whoever is on the other side of the door goes away. Or, I can answer the door looking a mess and risk raising alarms.

My decision is clear. I sit back on my haunches, waiting for them to give up and fuck off. A minute later, there is another knock.

"Bella?" A male voice pierces through the front door, causing me to shift in alarm. "It's Edward. I-I want to help you. Can you walk?"

Edward.

Of course, it's Edward.

Won't he just give up and leave me alone?

Can't he see I don't want or need his help?

Angry tears well up in my eyes as I push myself to my feet. My knees ache as I stagger over to the front door. Seething, I fling it open and greet Edward with a glare.

"Can't you fucking take a hint?" Edward's eyebrows disappear into his hairline as he stares back at me in bewilderment. "I don't need or want your fucking help."

"Have you seen yourself?" He counters, motioning to what must be the ghastly sight that I am. "You need medical attention, Bella."

"Whatever." I wave him off. "I'm fine. It's none of your business." I move to shut the door in his face and scowl when I come up short. Edward's stuck his foot in the jam. His bare foot. I just now realize his state of dress. He's in pajamas that are stained with grass and sweat.

"No." He states bluntly, staring hard at me through the crack in the doorway. "I can't sit back anymore. I know, Bella. I know about Phil. I know what he's doing to you. I want to help you. Please, let me help."

"Sure, you do." I laugh, rolling my eyes despite the ice that has formed in my veins.

"This act you're putting on may have everyone else fooled, but I see right through it. I have since day one. What Phil is doing to you is a crime, Bella. If you talk, it will stop."

"I don't know what you're talking about." I swallow, looking away from the desperation that burns in his deep green eyes. My stomach lurches at his words. For so long, Phil has made me feel powerless. This is my chance to take back my power, my body, my life from him. Yet, my heart breaks at the thought of never seeing him again. He has loved me – and I, him – like no one has before. I … I don't want to lose that. I can't lose that.

He opens his mouth to speak, but is silenced by the sounds of blaring sirens. Over his shoulder, I watch as an ambulance, followed by a cruiser, pulls into the driveway.

"What did you do?" I hiss, feeling white-hot anger crawl up my back.

"I'm sorry, Bella." He murmurs, taking a step back as the EMTs stride up the front walkway. "You need help. I got you help."

My mask snaps firmly in place.

I'm ready to clean up the mess Edward has made.

* * *

 **Oh, Edward ... the mess maker! Can she clean up what he's done? Or will she change her mind and give up Phil?**

 **Find out Monday!**

 **xo j**


	43. Chapter 43

**boy**

The door is wrenched open violently. Red in the face and covered in bruises, Bella glares at me from the doorway.

"Can't you fucking take a hint?" I should be expecting this, but I'm not. Even while she's struggling to stand and rocking a pretty healthy shiner, she manages to inflict her anger. "I don't need or want your fucking help."

"Have you seen yourself?" I retort, resisting the urge to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. "You need medical attention, Bella." Amongst other things.

"Whatever." She states flippantly, flapping a bruised hand in my direction. "I'm fine. It's none of your business."

The door begins to shut in my face, but I move to stop it. Foot in the jam, I peer at her imploringly as she lets out a frustrated sigh. For someone who just ate it majorly on the stairs, I'd expect her to be more … battered and out of it. But this is Bella … and I have a feeling she's endured worse. That thought alone makes me want to fight harder for her.

"No." I snap my jaws together with finality. "I can't sit back anymore. I know, Bella. I know about Phil. I know what he's doing to you. I want to help you. Please, let me help."

She shows no outward sign of being affected by my words. Instead, she is aloof – rolling her eyes and sighing dramatically. "Sure, you do." She snorts through a laugh like I've just told her the most ridiculous joke and not accused her step-father of molesting her.

Why is she protecting him? I decide to poke her.

"This act you're putting on may have everyone else fooled, but I see right through it. I have since day one. What Phil is doing to you is a crime, Bella. If you talk, it will stop."

Her eyes narrow and her arms cross protectively over her chest. Bingo – we're getting somewhere. "I don't know what you're talking about," she says, swallowing as she looks away. Her face twists as her eyes water and a heavy, broken breath lifts from her chest.

Something is holding her back. I need to say something, press more, in order to find out what it is. Maybe if I do, she'll open up. I'm about to do just that when I hear the sirens.

Bella's eyes narrow as the ambulance approaches. Her face hardens into a tense scowl as the vehicle pulls to a stop in the driveway. "What did you do?" She hisses, eyes hot with betrayal.

"I'm sorry, Bella." I sigh, taking a step back to clear the way for the EMTs. "You need help. I got you help." I just hope she can forgive me … after all this.

"This is ridiculous." She mutters, laughing as the EMTs begin their exam. "I'm fine." She assures the police officer, brushing off his questions. "I fell down some stairs. Not a big deal."

Another question, and she throws her head back and laughs. "No. No – he's delusional. That's not happening here at all. Edward has no idea what he's talking about. He's nice to be concerned, but I'm fine."

My mouth falls open as she lies through her teeth, smiling all the while and getting the EMTs and police to believe her side of the story. After a quick exam and five minutes of questioning, the 'help' I had gotten her is pulling out of the driveway.

"Like I said," Bella tells me haughtily as she stands and starts back toward her house. "I don't need or want your help. So, please, leave me alone."

With that last parting remark, she closes the front door firmly behind her.

Swallowing back dread and helplessness, I stumble back across the lawn to my house. Now, more than ever, I am certain that Bella truly needs my help. I'm just … going to have to try harder.

And I think Riley just might be the key.

* * *

 **Oh, Bella ... She threw up another wall in front of poor Determinedward. What do you think he means by Riley being the key? Do you think it'll work on Stubbornella?**

 **Thanks for reading. See you all soon with chapter 44!**

 **xo j**


	44. Chapter 44

**Fran is the best. That is all. (:**

 **girl**

Scalding water cascades down my body, soothing my sore muscles and making my skin prickle. I can hardly feel the heat as the pain medication gifted to me by the EMTs have me feeling numb and so, so low.

Thanks for that, Edward.

I sleepwalk through dressing, watching through heavy lids as hands littered with bruises sift through my closet. They stop on an oversized hoodie, feeling the fabric between tingling fingers before sliding the garment over my head. It pairs perfectly with my black leggings – loungewear chic. I'm far from concerned about my appearance, or anything at this point. Taking twice the prescribed number of pills will do that to you.

Mrs. Cope's voice drifts up the stairs, beckoning me down for dinner. My hand pauses mid-brush, drawing my hair away from my head. Slowly, it falls against my neck with a wet slap.

Dinner.

My eyes close. It's been Phil's code word for years.

" _I'll see you at dinner,"_ he'd tell me, putting extra emphasis on the word 'dinner.' That night, he'd visit my bedroom. Sometimes with kindness, others without – all depending on his mood.

I'm expecting to feel my chest tighten with dread. I get nothing but numbness.

Good.

Standing on unsteady legs, I float down the stairs and take my assigned seat at the dinner table. Riley drops unceremoniously into the one across from me. Moments later, Phil takes his place at the head of the table.

"What happened to your face?" Riley motions to his own eye and chuckles. "Did you and Jess get into a fight or something?"

"Fell down the stairs." A glob of mashed potatoes lands on my plate with a plop.

"You should be more careful." Phil remarks, holding out his hand for me to pass the potatoes. I look straight into his eyes as I hand them over. His are clear, blue, and flash in warning.

My lap is suddenly very interesting.

The room is filled with the sound of tinkling silverware as everyone digs in. I half-heartedly push my food around on the plate, making shapes in the potatoes and cutting the chicken into little pieces. My stomach turns at the thought of actually eating any of it.

"Isabella," Phil chides, heavy brow casting a shadow over his eyes. My hand stills. "Quit playing with your food and eat. God knows you need it. You're skeletal."

I obediently bring a forkful to my mouth. I hardly taste the food as I chew. After a moment of mechanistic jawing, I force my throat to constrict around the masticated blob. Phil looks on with a faint smile, nodding encouragingly as I swallow. This is how it is with him. Everything is about control.

I choke down a few more mouthfuls before I excuse myself from the table. Phil doesn't look happy, but I just can't sit there anymore. My stomach is rolling from the food, and my mind is sputtering and sluggish.

I make it to the stairwell before I'm stopped by a hand on my arm. "Are you okay?" Riley asks, turning me to face him. My eyes find my feet, unwilling to meet his concerned gaze.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I mutter, removing his hand from my arm and sighing. "I'm just beat. My head hurts, and we have school tomorrow. I'm going to lie down – try to go to sleep early."

"Okay." Riley doesn't look convinced. His eyes narrow as he rakes a hand through his hair. "You left early Friday night. Edward told me he dropped you and Jess off."

"Oh." I gulp. That's how we got home. "Yeah. We weren't feeling it."

"You're just too cool," he chuckles, shaking his head and smiling. If only he knew what really happened. That would wipe the smile right off his face. My mind replays the events of that night: hooking up with Marcus, being ambushed by unwelcome memories, the acrid taste of vomit, Jessica coming to my rescue, and being carried out of the party with my face pressed into a firm chest.

I haven't allowed myself to mull over what happened that night, let alone reflect on who my faceless savior was. Now I know. I shouldn't be surprised that it was Edward.

"Let me know if you need anything." Riley murmurs, nudging my shoulder before ducking into the living room. Swallowing against the lump that has formed in my throat, I tear my eyes away from my older brother's retreating form and force my legs to carry me up the stairs.

After sliding into my cool sheets, I turn onto my back and sigh. My mind and body are exhausted, but sleep evades me. Staring blankly into the blackness that surrounds me, I count forward and backward to one hundred several times.

On the fourth circuit, my eyes droop, my breaths even out, and consciousness leaves me. I'm sucked into a deep, dark, nothingness. Limbs limp and muscles slack, I don't dream. For once, I am at peace.

Until my door creaks open.

Blinking back sleep, I turn onto my side as it closes with a muffled click. The lock is pressed in moments later. The sound alone is enough to make my knees press together.

Phil's eyes at dinner flash in my mind.

The bed behind me dips.

I won't find any kindness tonight.

* * *

 **Oh boy.**

 **More on Thursday.**

 **xo j**


	45. Chapter 45

**Shoutout to Fran! She's the best!**

 **boy**

"Hey," Riley nods as I slide into the passenger seat.

"Hey," I echo, cutting my eyes to Bella's reflection in the rearview mirror. I wasn't expecting her to be here this morning. She's been hitching rides to school with her friends to avoid interacting with me.

"Are you okay?" I ask, turning in my seat to face her and motioning to her ghastly state. She attempted to use makeup to cover her many bruises with little success. Aside from that, her skin shines with sickly hue, her hair is unkempt, and her clothes are rumpled. Even _if_ she claims that she's okay, she's clearly not. Her appearance alone speaks volumes.

Her eyes meet mine, flashing hotly in warning. Message received.

"She fell down the stairs." Riley supplies as he carefully navigates out of our neighborhood. "She's hopelessly uncoordinated. Always has been. You'll never find Bella without a bump, bruise, or scrape."

My back stiffens at his words. I can't help but wonder if those injuries are truly caused by klutziness or … something else. Something much more sinister.

Phil.

"Where were you yesterday?" I decide to change the subject as I settle back into my seat. "I stopped by, and you weren't there. Phil said he'd let you know."

"Funny," Riley murmurs humorlessly as his hands twist around the steering wheel. Just the mention of his name has him acting like this. I wish Bella could see what I do. "He didn't say _shit_ to me. I was at Jasper's house, shooting the shit. He and Alice broke up."

"Bummer," Bella mutters sarcastically.

"Be nice," Riley lifts his head so they make eye contact through the rearview mirror and opens his eyes wide in warning. "Alice is pretty beat up about it."

"Sure," she answers, rolling her eyes as she turns to face the window.

The rest of the ride passes in silence. I had planned to fill Riley in on my suspicions this morning, but I didn't anticipate Bella's presence. Now, I'm going to have to regroup and figure out how to approach this. Riley needs to know, either way. He can't go on thinking that he's alone in this. Neither can Bella.

"Bye," Bella drones, jumping out of the car as soon as Riley puts it in park.

The moment she disappears from sight, Riley leans forward in his seat, fists his hair, and lets out a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry, man." He murmurs, voice laced with guilt. "I know you probably think I'm avoiding you. I wish I could say I'm not, but … I think I am."

"You _think_ you are or you _are?_ Which one is it?" I don't mean to come off sassy. I'm not all that offended. I figured Riley would put some distance between us after how … swimmingly our last conversation went.

I was right.

"I am." He answers tiredly. "Which is why I'm apologizing. I shouldn't have done that. You were right to be concerned, man. I unloaded some shit on you. If it had been me in your shoes, I would have done the same."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about yesterday," I tell him, spotting my opening and taking it.

"Look," Riley butts in, face drawn in an unpleasant frown. "I told you my story. I apologized for avoiding you. I think we've talked this thing to death."

"No," I assert, making deliberate eye contact. ' _Stay firm_ ,' advice my father gave me years ago sounds in my head, ' _keep pushing, and you'll get what you want.'_ I don't want to think about him right now, but I _do_ take his advice. Shoulders squared, I push. "Now, it's time for you to listen. Yesterday, your front door was open when I stopped by your house. I didn't get a foot inside before Phil was ushering me out. While we were talking outside, we heard this loud bang. Phil said Bella threw a book down the stairs … I'm pretty sure it was…" I trail off, letting him put the pieces together himself. His face slackens when he realizes what I'm implying. "And he just … left. He didn't even go inside to check on her."

"That bastard!" He curses, slamming his hands down hard on the steering wheel. "I could kill that fucker!"

"Riley, um…" I sigh, swallowing before readying myself for delivering the worst of my news. "There's more … What you told me Friday night got me thinking. I did some research and … well, I don't think you're the only one Phil targeted."

"What are you saying?" Riley's face contorts in a mix of confusion and anguish.

"The way Bella's been acting – the mood swings, the drinking, the acting out sexually – are all clear signs of sexual abuse."

Riley's breath leaves him in a shuddering gasp. "But, you're not sure, right? It's just a hunch, right? She can't have been … He would never … I would have noticed if…" He trails off, digging his fists into his eyes.

"I went back after Phil left yesterday. I saw her – through the window. She was face-down on the stairs, not moving at all. I called the cops and … informed them of my suspicions. She was so mad at me when they arrived. Adamantly denying the story I told them. Jumping to Phil's defense. Even after he left her there on the stairs!"

"Maybe you're wrong?" Riley sighs hopelessly. His words say doubt, but his eyes tell me all I need to know. He knows. He sees it. I'm getting through to him.

"No. We both know I'm not. I wish you could have seen her face when I voiced my suspicions. She looked _terrified_. I'm convinced Phil has her brainwashed. Why else would she protect him?"

"Maybe she thinks no one will believe her?" Riley drops his head back on the headrest, sighing heavily. "She's probably right to think that. Phil practically controls the whole town. She's pretty much alone in this. Without physical evidence, her case will most likely be dismissed."

Physical evidence? I'm pretty sure she has plenty! I dismiss that thought and decide to use another tactic. "But, _is_ she alone in this?"

Swallowing, Riley sits up. Eyes bright, he shakes his head fervently. "No." He says, voice strong and decisive. "No, she's not. I'm sorry, Edward. I'll see you later. I have to go find my sister."

* * *

 **Yeah ... that happened! What's next, though?**

 **Find out Thursday!**

 **xo j**


	46. Chapter 46

**Special thanks to Fran (:**

 **girl**

I wake on my back with a start.

Alarm blaring in my ear, I shift and sit up in bed. The sheets tangled around my legs are damp. So are my pajamas. But I already knew they would be.

I'd never been a bed wetter – not even when it was acceptable to be one. It started in sixth grade ... when my relationship with my stepfather _changed_. It only happened occasionally at first – on those rare nights he was a little too rough with me.

Now, I'm lucky if I get a gentle night. And I couldn't keep him out if I tried, what with my conflicted feelings and lockless door.

With soiled bed clothes and sheets gathered in my arms, I start my walk-of-shame to the laundry room. I almost make it there undetected, until Mrs. Cope stops me short.

"Didn't I wash those earlier this week?" Her lips purse as she moves to take the sheets from my arms.

"No, let me!" I snap, pulling away from her and rushing to shove the bundle into the washer. Twirling around, I mash my fists into my eyes as I grit out a guilty apology. "I'm sorry, I – I didn't sleep very well last night."

"Is everything okay?" Mrs. Cope murmurs, reaching out tentatively to pat my arm.

"I have to get ready for school." I duck out from under her arm, skin crying out for her comfort while my mind spins through panicked scenarios. She can't know. No one can know. He'll ... I'll ... my mom would be devastated ... losing two husbands ... she'll withdraw even more into herself. I'm not sure if I'd have a mom anymore if that happened.

Mrs. Cope moves to block my path, trapping me in the laundry room. Arms crossed over her chest, she regards me warily. "Why are you having accidents again? What's going on?"

I cut my eyes away. I haven't changed or showered. I'm pungent. I can't deny that.

"Isabella, please." Her eyes widen as she reaches for me yet again. "What's happened to you, my sweet girl?"

My eyes lift slowly, narrowing in anger. "Nothing."

 _Nothing is wrong at all. My stepfather's been molesting me under your nose for years, and you've only just noticed that something's wrong_ _ **.**_

I don't wait for her reaction. I have school, after all.

\- prey-

Edward stares at me the entire ride to school. I can feel his pity in every pore.

It's infuriating.

He makes a point to meet my eyes through the mirror several times. Every time it happens, I feel a childish outburst claw its way up my throat. I am a wound-tight ball of tension by the time we make it to the parking lot.

I nearly throw myself out of the car when it pulls to a stop.

"Bye." I spit as I make my exit. I spare them no pleasantries.

Walking is hard to manage, especially when my legs want to sprint. My body is desperate for flight. My mind begs for an escape. I think of texting James, but just as quickly curse. Not even he's safe anymore.

My trudge toward the school comes to an abrupt halt when I see what waits in front of the building. Cop cars – plural. Those _can't_ be for me. I didn't admit to anything. My poker face is undefeated. Nevertheless, anxiety crawls up my back and closes around my throat.

I can't do this. Do I not have sanctity? Am I to be raw, exposed at every moment? Fighting the tremors that clutch at my overstimulated body, I make a beeline to the back entrance of the school.

This is too much.

The world presses in around me. My breaths come fast and shallow. My heart hammers behind my ribs. My mind sputters.

I am coming apart at the seams.

Arms wrapped tightly around my middle, I stumble in through the back entrance. The hallway trembles and quakes around me. My body leans heavily against the wall.

Bathroom. I just need to make it to the bathroom.

People stop and stare as I stagger drunkenly down the hall. Someone grabs my arm as I walk past, voice high with alarm. I pull myself free, breaking into a blind sprint.

Bathroom.

I have to get there before ... before I fall apart.

I've nearly reached my destination when someone steps into my path. Skidding to a stop, I breathe out heavily and glance down at my antsy feet.

"Bella." He says, voice clogged with emotion. "Stop."

My eyes lift minutely, finding his staring back at me. They look exactly like mine – dark and wide. Two gaping wounds of fathomless pain.

"I'm here." He whispers brokenly, stepping forward an inch. "I'm here. I know. I think I've always known and I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry it took me so long to wake up."

His arms encircle me, guiding me into his chest. Mine come up – fighting this, fighting him – and push back against his chest.

Denial.

He only holds me harder, tighter. "It's over." He assures me as a low, keening noise fills my ears. "It's going to be okay. I promise. I'm sorry, baby sister. I'm so fucking sorry."

My throat aches as the noise sounds again, and I realize – belatedly – that it's _me_ who is making that noise. Body trembling with unrestrained emotion and face wet with tears, I breathe out the tension against his chest.

"I'm sorry," he repeats as his heart thunders against my cheek. "I'm sorry. It's all my fault. I'm sorry."

My limbs relax. Arms slide around his waist. Hands clutch desperately at his shirt. This is Riley. This is my brother. He's here, and he knows, and he's not judging.

No – he's crying.

"I've got you, B." He gasps against my temple. "I love you."

"I-" I start, voice sticky and throat aching. "I love you, too."

* * *

 **I'm not crying, you're crying!**

 **What's next? Find out later this week!**

 **xo j**


	47. Chapter 47

**Many, many thanks to my numerous supporters and - most of all - to Fran (:**

 **boy**

The halls are abuzz with whispers.

"Did you see?"

"Did you hear?"

"Bella and Riley Swan ..."

"Arrested for assault ..."

"Heard it was prostitution ..."

"She's such a slut ..."

Snippets of conversation swirl around me as I push through the throngs of students who crowd the halls.

"Did you hear what happened this morning?"

" _So-and-so_ was standing right there!"

"Bella Swan went crazy!"

"Riley Swan did, too!"

Everyone has something to add, something to say. One kid claims to have witnessed the whole thing. Another has Bella in his first period – "she's all right," he shrugs. His friend laughs in response, shoving the other playfully. " _Sure_ , she's all right," he mocks.

I don't stick around long enough to hear any more.

Wicked, bitterness drops into my gut. These people have jumped to uninvited conclusions, and, as someone that is in-the-know about the situation, I can't help the wave of anger that crests in my veins.

But am I? In-the-know, that is.

This morning, Riley promptly disappeared after our come-to-Jesus conversation. By the time I made it to the school's main building, the police had descended upon them. They've been holed up in the front office ever since. And no one has heard a peep from either of them.

Hence, the rumors.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," I warn a group of gossiping freshmen that are gathered beside my locker. The majority of the girls let out a gasp of surprise and scurry away. One, however, smirks coyly and rolls her eyes instead.

"Neither do you," she reminds me in a sing-song voice, patting my back as she walks past. "For now, the _truth_ is whatever we want it to be."

I feel the need to clap back with an equally witty response, but I'm at a loss. As much as I hate to admit it, she has a point. In this world – small town High School USA – the word of the majority _is_ the truth. So, whatever atrocity the rumor mill decides to spin is deemed factual. Well, until the next fabrication floats to the surface, and then they all jump on it hot-off-the-press.

"Mr. Masen." Mr. Hoult – my Physics teacher – looks less-than-amused as he looms over my desk. "You've been summoned – front office. Take your things."

"What?" I mutter dumbly. "Am I going home?"

"I don't know," he replies, tone acrid and lip curling in disdain. "Why don't _you_ go ask them."

The class laughs at his roast, and he grumpily waves them off. I take a deep, unsteady breath before leaning down and packing my things back into my backpack.

"Hey," someone whispers to my left, foot nudging my sneaker urgently. I glance up sharply, meeting the concerned gaze of Emmett McCarty. "D'you think this has anything to do with ... y'know ... your friends? The Swans?"

My lips draw down into an involuntary scowl. Not him, too.

"Not that it's any of your business," I remind him, standing quickly and slinging my backpack over my shoulder. "No – it has _nothing_ to do with the Swans."

"I hear you." Emmett mouths, hands drawn up in a gesture that says, 'I meant no harm.' Despite his proclamation, I don't buy it. By next period, my name will be weaved into the narrative. I have no idea what role it'll play, but I'm sure I'll find out soon enough.

The rumor mill works fast.

My shoes scuff across dirty linoleum as I trudge toward the front office. Every step I take feels more and more labored, as if there is an invisible force above me, pressing down with all its might.

Why have I been taken from class?

What am I going to find waiting for me in the front office?

Police?

My parents?

The principal?

By the time I reach the double doors that lead into the office, my chest is heaving rapidly with short, shallow breaths. Eyes clenched shut, I attempt to even them out in order to calm myself, but find little success. Heart racing, I reach out for the handle, but the door swings toward me instead. Stepping backward to avoid being hit, I glance up in alarm.

"Oh," my mother says, brushing her hair away from her face and laughing anxiously. "There you are, honey. I was just heading out here to wait for you in the hall."

"Mom?" My brows scrunch together in confusion at the sight of her. Her normally pressed, and perfect appearance is anything but. Hair out of place, clothes wrinkled, and sweat beading on her forehead and chest, she's a complete mess. "What's wrong? Why are you here?"

"I..." She starts, jaw working and eyes jumpy. "I've just submitted your withdrawal information, Edward. Your father's been arrested. He's ... he's done something terrible, son. We ... we're leaving – going to grandma's."

"But-" I begin, but she raises her hand and shakes her head in dismissal.

"No buts. I've already phoned the high school there. Everything's all set. You'll finish out the rest of the year in Washington. With me."

Her tone leaves no room for questions.

"Let's go, son. We have a flight to catch."

Speechless, I stand hopelessly in the hall and watch as my disheveled mother strides toward the exit. I don't know how I anticipated this playing out, but this was not what I wanted or expected. To set off a bomb in the middle of the Swan/Dwyer family and then disappear? Definitely not.

But, as my mother sighs impatiently and gestures for me to move along, I realize this is set to be my reality. I have no other choice.

There will be no goodbye to my cavernous home. There will be no goodbye to the stuffy arcade, and the facetious group of teenagers who hang out there. There will be no goodbye to my tiny twin neighbors, or their lanky stepbrother, who hid a dark secret behind an easy, dimpled smile. Most of all, there will be no goodbye to the beautiful girl that struck me dumb from her windowsill. A girl with fathomless pain swirling in the dark depths of her brown eyes. A girl who painted her smile on every morning in hopes that the pretty façade would prevent others from looking too closely and seeing the darkness that crept in from the edges.

Forehead pressed against the car window, I send my goodbyes out into the universe – hoping that somehow, someway, they will be received.

* * *

 **Oh. Poor Edward! Where do we go from here?**

 **xo j**


	48. Chapter 48

**Many, many thanks to my numerous supporters and - most of all - to Fran (:**

* * *

 _ **Florida Senator Phil Dwyer Arrested on Child Molestation Indictment**_

 _August 31, 2017_

 _FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE_

 _Incumbent Senator Phil Dwyer, who has held office for nearly six years, has been charged with more than 100 counts of sexual battery to a minor. Dwyer, who had been actively campaigning for his reelection in November, is alleged to have begun the abuse in 2012._

 _..._

 _ **Ed 'The Cleaner' Masen Gets Dirty**_

 _September 1, 2017_

 _When it rains, it pours – especially in Florida. After news of Sen. Dwyer's apprehension comes the revelation that his campaign manager – Edward Masen Sr. – has been arrested in connection with Dwyer's crimes._

 _This indictment falls under Florida Statute 39.205, which details the crime of Failure to Report Child Abuse or Neglect. Uh, oh, Masen! That's a Third-Degree Felony in Florida – punishable by up to five years in prison. Looks as though someone has finally managed to sully Masen's pristine reputation._

 _..._

 _ **Florida Sen. Dwyer Found Dead**_

 _September 5, 2017_

 _FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE_

 _Florida Senator Phil Dwyer, who was charged in late August with more than 100 counts of sexual battery to a minor – has passed away. Authorities confirmed his death after he was discovered unresponsive in his hotel room early Sunday morning. Cause of death has not yet been established._

 _..._

 _ **Sen. Dwyer Death Confirmed Suicide**_

 _September 7, 2017_

 _FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE_

 _The Coroner's Office at the Tampa Police Department has confirmed that former Florida Senator Phil Dwyer's death has been ruled a suicide._

 _Responding to a complaint, an employee found Dwyer in his Tampa hotel room at around 5:30 a.m. on Tuesday, September 5, 2017. Authorities state Dwyer was then discovered with a belt around his neck in the closet._

 _This shocking news comes in light of Dwyer's recent arrest, where he was charged with more than 100 counts of sexual battery to a minor. Dwyer was released on September 4, 2017, when his wife – Renee Dwyer – posted his $250,000 bond payment._

 _Dwyer's representatives have declined to comment._

 _..._

 _ **Sen. Dwyer's Victim "Just Wants Peace"**_

 _September 21, 2017_

 _Following the former Florida Senator's suicide, his case has been surrounded by controversy. Among the loudest outcries are those who demand justice for his young victim._

 _Today, this child has spoken._

" _We ask that the press grant us peace during this tough time," representatives of Dwyer's unnamed victim requested in a press release sent through the wire early Thursday morning. "The victim would like to maintain anonymity in light of recent events."_

 _It seems we will never know who Dwyer's victim was. Regardless, we send them our sincere respect and support as they navigate these tough times._

 _Justice – it seems – was not served in Florida._

* * *

 **Please, please, please send me your reactions!**

 **More coming soon.**

 **xo j**


	49. Chapter 49

**Eternally thankful for SunflowerFran.**

 _-Eight Years Later-_

 **man**

"Edward, what's wrong?"

Remote in hand, I can barely manage a swallow against the lump obstructing my throat. My index finger still lingers over the pause button, which served to freeze the image on my TV screen.

"Babe," Jane asserts, hand landing heavy on my thigh. "What's wrong?" After a moment, she sighs. "Who is that?"

Head dropping onto the back of the couch, I let out a slow breath. "I knew her."

Jane shifts uncomfortably at my vague response, itching for a deeper explanation. She lets out an impatient breath before pressing for more. "When? How?"

"A long time ago." I clarify, roughly rubbing at my eyes. "In high school."

Jane shifts again, removing her hand from my leg. The room is filled with tense silence as she breathes softly through her nose. My eyes open, glaring up at the ceiling as unresolved feelings of guilt and hurt wash over me. Guilt for not being there when I was clearly needed. Hurt from being removed from the situation without my consent.

"It's her, isn't it?" Jane murmurs after a moment, voice sharp and biting.

"What do you mean?" I breathe, lifting my head to make eye contact. She stares back at me bluntly, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"It's her. She's the reason you're holding back. She's the reason you won't let yourself love me – love _anyone._ " Jaw clenched, I look away sharply. My gaze lands on the TV; on the image frozen there.

I can't deny that, and she deserves more than lies. So, I stay silent.

Jane's sigh is followed by the sound of her fingers moving roughly through her hair. "I'm right, aren't I?" After a heavy, silent pause, she laughs bitterly. "Okay, well, I'm just going to save myself the embarrassment and go."

She stands, tugging her skirt down roughly. Shifting her feet, she peers down at me for a moment and tsks. "And to think," she murmurs humorlessly, "I thought we had something really good."

"We did," I reply after a stretch of tense silence. Glancing up at her, I knot my fingers in my hair and sigh. "I'm really sorry, Jane."

"Yeah, well," she snorts, pinching her lips together and crossing her arms over her chest. "Sorry isn't good enough."

With that last remark, she snatches up her purse and leaves the room. My eyes follow the trail of sugary blond hair out the doorway and then drop to my lap.

That was not how I expected this evening to go. Jane was right – about many things. We _did_ have something good going. That is, until I saw _her_ on the TV. Speaking in that soft, lilting voice. Dark eyes lit by a determined fire.

Her face greets me as I lift my eyes back to the screen. Her lips are achingly pursed around her words. Her eyes glint with emotion. She is just as beautiful as she was eight years ago. Even more so, actually.

Lips parted in anticipation, I depress the pause button and watch her face come to life. "What I've learned from my past is not to let it define me," she tells someone off-camera. "It took me years to come to grips with that concept, but, after a lot of therapy and soul-searching, I've realized that what happened – as horrible as it was – is not who I am now. On the contrary ... I'm stronger, no longer a victim, but a survivor."

Pausing, she chews her lip before shifting her gaze and addressing the camera. "To anyone out there who has endured what I have ... know it's not your fault that this happened to you and – most of all – you're not alone. Someone tried to help me a while back. He told me something I refused to believe at the time, but, now, it's a motto I live by." Pausing, she wets her lips before continuing. In a clear, firm voice, she says, "And so I'll share it with you all today: _'if you talk, it will stop.'_ "

My stomach flips at her words. _My_ words. The assertion I made eight years ago. After all this time, she remembers what I said.

She remembers _me._

Reeling from this realization, I refocus on the TV. The short news segment comes to a close, and the anchors have reclaimed their spots onscreen.

"Tune in next week for an exclusive interview with Isabella Swan, the star of the award-winning Sundance Film Festival documentary, _Prey._ The film traces the lives of five individuals, all of whoare victims of child sexual abuse. _Prey_ marks Swan's first-ever, publicized account in the eight years since her abuser, former senator, Phil Dwyer, was arrested on over one-hundred counts of sexual battery. Following his release, Dwyer was discovered unresponsive in his Tampa hotel room – his death later being ruled a suicide."

The ache in my stomach intensifies. I'm relieved that Bella is finally comfortable sharing her story. But ... I can't help the dissatisfaction that builds inside me at being so in-the-dark.

What happened after I left? How is Riley? The twins? Her mom?

I need to know.

* * *

 **Hi all - so sorry for the wait! Now that school is over, updates should come more frequently.**

 **What do we think? What is E going to do?**

 **xo j**


	50. Chapter 50

**Endless thanks to SunflowerFran!**

 **man**

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Paul asks, voice wary.

His brow wrinkles as he stares back at me with pursed lips. This is his anxious face. It's his trademark. He's been making it for as long as I've known him – since we were roommates freshman year of college.

He's right to be worried. This is extreme, but ... after all this time, I think she deserves it. The Swans deserve it. Reaching out through social media is too easy. I need to make a grand gesture.

"Yeah, I'm sure." I murmur, breathing down my nose heavily.

News of the screening of her documentary at our old high school broke fast. And the promise of her being there was all the encouragement I needed. I didn't even think twice about it before booking a flight to Tampa.

"Flying all the way there..." Paul trails off, face scrunched as he peers at me over the lunch table. "She might think it's weird. Especially without trying to contact her first. I mean, her social media accounts are all over the place now. It's not like she's inaccessible."

"I get it, I really do. But, I think this is a conversation that needs to be had in person. And ... given our history, it'll be harder for her to ignore me when I'm standing right there." My lips pull down into a frown at that thought. She spent so much time trying to run away from me in high school. Now I understand why. I just hope she's grown tired of running.

"I don't think she'll ignore you." Paul chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. "Not after what she said during that interview."

He's right. She _did_ mention me – in a roundabout way. That _is_ a positive sign. However, it's still not enough to get me to change my plans. In fact, it makes me more determined to meet her in person rather than message her over the internet.

"I'm still going," I tell him matter-of-factly as I tuck into my lunch.

Eyes rolling, Paul laughs heartily. "I know you are, and it's no bother arguing with you. Once you set your mind to something, there's no going back."

Smirking, I shrug and take a wolfing bite out of my sandwich. He's right. I won't deny it. I've always been headstrong about getting what I want. This is no different.

All that is left is to anxiously endure the wait between now and the screening. It's only a few weeks, but I have a feeling it'll feel like a lifetime.

It always feels like that when you want something really bad.

I should know. I've waited for her to come out of hiding for eight years. And now that she's out, I won't waste my time waiting for my message to be found in an overflowing inbox of DMs.

No – now that I know where she is, I'm going wherever she is.

I will not miss this opportunity.

* * *

 **Edward hasn't changed, huh? How do you all think this is going to go? Let me know in the comments (:**

 **xo**

 **j**


	51. Chapter 51

**Endless thanks to SunflowerFran.**

 **woman**

"Are you sure you're okay?" Jess asks for what must be the hundredth time.

"Yes!" I snap, turning to glare at her in frustration. "I'm fine. I'm stronger than I look – I promise."

"I'm sorry. I just ... care about you, Bella." Jess smiles sheepishly, leaning back in the airplane seat beside me with a sigh. "We're returning to the scene of the crime – of sorts. It has me feeling ... I don't know ... raw?"

" _You're_ feeling raw..." I trail off, rolling my eyes sarcastically. "Imagine how _I_ feel."

"Which is why I asked you if you're okay." Jess blurts, prying my hand off the armrest between us. "Please take off the mask, Bella. You're safe with me. You know that."

Her words give me pause. Am I doing it again? Am I masking my feelings? It has taken me years of therapy to begin to understand myself and come to grips with what happened to me. Emotional deception was once second-nature to me. Now, it's like a distant memory. However, it sometimes rears its ugly head at my most vulnerable of times. It's like muscle memory.

After doing a quick probe of my emotions, I find only nervous excitement. Nervous at having to speak in front of what is predicted to be a large crowd of people. Excitement to share my story and hopefully impact the lives of my audience.

"I'm fine, actually." I murmur to Jess in reassurance. Gripping her hand in mine, I give her a watery smile. "If anything, I'm overwhelmed by this opportunity and all the doors it might open up for me as an advocate. I never knew this was what I wanted to do ... not until I consented to the documentary and shared my story. The outpouring of support, of love, of 'me toos' got me thinking that this could be something I can do – _for real,_ for real."

"For real, for real." Jess parrots, head nodding as she smiles. "This is crazy."

"Isn't it?" I chuckle, leaning back in my seat and staring up at the passenger controls fixed to the ceiling. It's surreal. Years ago, I would have died to keep this secret. Phil wanted it that way, and because I was so deeply under his control, I was only happy to do his bidding.

Rolling my head to the side, I squint my eyes as I peer at the fluffy clouds that float by my window. Now I realize it was more than that. It was control coupled with my crippling shame that kept me silent. Shame that I'd fallen for it. Shame that part of me _liked_ what he was doing to me, to my body. Shame that I kept going back, even though I hated it.

The violence was my tipping point.

I would have kept on with it forever, had he not raised his fist to me in frustration. His new campaign manager told him to end it. Said it was a danger to his reelection. I wouldn't let him – that's how sick I was back then. I pushed and pushed until he broke. But, with it, came the violence and, ultimately, our demise.

He was right – Edward Masen Sr. I just don't think he realized _how much_ of a danger it was. Phil called what we had a 'relationship.' I doubt he mentioned that he started said 'relationship' against my will when I was in the sixth grade. I didn't even have my period yet, let alone developed sex organs.

I'll never know if Edward Masen Sr. knew the full extent of our ' _relationship.'_ Not because I won't ask him, but because I _can't._ He died suddenly five years ago.

Pancreatic cancer.

Jess said karma. I silently agreed.

He lost his freedom and his family on the same day.

Three years later, he lost his life.

At the risk of sounding petty ... Good riddance.

* * *

 **A glimpse into Bella's mind ... what do we think? Will she be receptive to Edward?**

 **More on Monday.**

 **xo**

 **j**


	52. Chapter 52

**Endless thanks to SunflowerFran (:**

 **man**

Standing at baggage claim, I shift my carry-on up my shoulder and uneasily palm the back of my neck. The lights are blinding, and I'm convinced ants have burrowed under my skin. Being back here, in Tampa, has unearthed a well of anxiety I thought had long gone dry.

For a split second, every face looks familiar. My breath stutters, eyes dragging across people I think I know – but don't. They stare back, seeing the boy from eight years ago. The one that left a wake of chaos in his path. I blink and my eyes land on a stranger's face. I don't know these people, and they don't know me.

The carousel comes to life.

My lungs expand and contract.

Of course, my bag is one of the last out. But, by then, my anxiety has all but disappeared. Good thing because the Uber ride from the airport to my hotel is long.

Bag in hand, I turn toward the exit.

The screening is tomorrow.

As I weave through crowds of travelers, I can't help but wonder if they're here for the same reason as me. I realize they can't be, though. I'm not here to just watch her film and hear her speak. I'm here to ...

To ...

To what?

I don't know.

I'm here because I need to be.

I'm here because there is no other option.

Eight years ago, I was jerked out of my home, out of my life, out of the mess I had managed to uncover. It wasn't my intention to unearth this huge _thing_ and then disappear. I wanted to be there for her, for Riley. To support them.

But I was only a kid. I had no choice but to go with my mom. That didn't mean total withdrawal, though. I still had Riley's number. And, as soon as the plane touched down in Washington, I called him.

Straight to voicemail.

It was that way every time I called. Then, a few days later, the calls stopped going through. The line was disconnected.

And so was I.

The Swans disappeared. Just as I had.

The loneliness of that moment, the realization, it echoes in my chest. Eight years later and it stills affects me.

Jane was right.

My phone buzzes, alerting me to my Uber's arrival.

Shouldering my bag, I step up to the curb and gnaw my lip as the red Corolla pulls to a stop in front of me. The trunk pops, and I make my way around back to plop in my bag. Inhaling deeply, I slam the trunk before sliding into the back seat.

"Hilton?" The driver murmurs, thumbing through his phone before placing it on a stabilizer on his dash.

"Yeah," I reply distractedly, pulling up the email reservation confirmation on my phone for verification.

For a moment, the car idles in place. I don't notice at first, as I'm thumbing through my emails and sighing at the work that is piling up in my absence. Suddenly, the tense silence in the vehicle weighs down on my shoulders and causes me to glance up.

Familiar eyes stare back at me in the rearview.

"Oh shit," I breathe in sudden realization.

"It's you."

* * *

 **Who is it? Chapter 53 teaser for the first person (non-guest obviously, since I can't PM guests) to guess correctly in the reviews (;**

 **See you all on Friday.**

 **xo**

 **j**


	53. Chapter 53

**Endless thanks to SunflowerFran (:**

 **man**

"Yeah," Emmett flashes that familiar wide grin. "It's me."

"What a fucking world!" I chuckle, leaning into the space between the driver and passenger seats. "Of all the people to pick me up..."

"You know, I had a feeling as I accepted your fare ... I just didn't think it would actually be you." Emmett shakes his head, running his fingers through his thinning hair. "Welcome back, man!"

"Yeah," I chuckle, rubbing the back of my neck. "Thanks, man. This is unreal."

"Hmm," Emmett hums, shifting the car into drive. "It is. You going to that screening tomorrow at the school?" His eyes lift to mine as he slows to a stop at a light.

"Yeah," I say after a moment, teeth bothering at the inside of my mouth. "Are you surprised?"

"Nah," he shrugs, taking a turn and tightening his hands on the steering wheel. "That was the biggest thing that ever happened in our town. In eight years, people haven't stopped talking about it. Almost everyone I know will be there."

"And you?" I ask after a pause. "Are you going?"

"I don't know." Emmett shrugs, fingers fiddling with the radio. "I don't know if I ... if I feel comfortable going."

"Why's that?"

His eyes lift to mine in the rearview mirror as he shrugs again. "The things I said. About her. About her family." He pauses, squeezing his eyes shut as his forehead wrinkles. "I don't think I can face seeing her, knowing what I know now."

"You feel guilty." I murmur, giving his feelings a name.

"Among other things, yes." Emmett sighs, right hand lifting to palm his hair. "I fed the gossip. I fanned the flames around someone who was ... who was a victim. Someone who was already hurting so much. I was a monster, and I didn't even care. No, I don't think I can stomach seeing her again."

After a heavy pause, I sigh, knowing what needs to be said instantly. "I think ... maybe you should go tomorrow." Emmett huffs loudly at this, shaking his head and repeating the word 'no' several times. "You should," I reiterate, "to apologize. That guilt ... it's going to eat you alive. You need to free yourself from it so you can move on."

The car is silent as Emmett mulls over what I've said. His face creases in concentration as he takes his turns, lip sliding between his teeth as he gnaws thoughtfully.

It's not until we pull to a stop in front of my hotel that he speaks.

"How do you know?" He's turned around, facing me front-on now. His eyes plead with mine, their depths dark and watery.

"Why do you think _I'm_ here?" I counter, lips pulled tight in a sad smile.

"You left." He nods, eyes raking over me slowly. "You had something to do with it, huh?"

"I don't know." I shrug, glancing down at my lap. "I just saw her – really _saw_ her – and gave her the push she needed."

"We were all blind, back then." Emmett sighs, rubbing at his eyes. "And stupid." Chuckling lightly, he turns and faces forward in his seat. "God, this is so fucked up."

"That's life," I reply, leaning over to pop open my door. "Thanks for the ride."

"Yeah," he replies, not looking up from his lap.

The door shuts behind me with a faint clunk, and I quickly round the side to grab my bags from the trunk. Luggage in hand, I turn toward the hotel, its lights warm and inviting.

Letting out a slow breath, I start forward, but the sound of my name being called gives me pause. Turning in place, I glance back toward where I came. Emmett's car is still there, and the passenger side window is down.

"I..." He starts, his eyes a shadowy slash across his deeply creased face. "I'm sorry ... I'm a coward."

"Yes," I nod, lips creasing into a frown. "You are."

* * *

 **Soooooo ... everyone picked Riley and James. And it wasn't! Congrats to Jansails for literally being the ONLY person who guessed right! I'm honestly a little shocked that no one else chose Emmett. Buuuuuut, Riley would have been pretty dramatic, right? Hmmm, that's just too predictable for me, though. Anyway, what did we think? Is Emmett a coward? Sound off in the comments.**

 **See you all on Monday with chapter 54 (:**

 **xo**

 **j**


	54. Chapter 54

**Endless thanks to SunflowerFran (:**

 **woman**

I don't bother glancing up as my hotel room door creaks open. There's only one person it could be.

"You ready?" Jess asks, popping her smiling head through the gap. "Oh, I love that outfit."

"Thanks," I smile, clenching my notecards in my hands. "I think I'm ready as I'll ever be."

"Well, you look great," she murmurs, stepping into my room and closing the door behind her with a faint click. "You know, studies have shown that when you look great, you do great – especially public speaking-wise."

"Hm," I murmur, shuffling the cards in my hands. "I don't know if I believe that."

"It's true," Jess counters matter-of-factly. "Look it up."

"Sure, I'll add that to my to-do list."

Jess' face creases into a frown, lips tugging down into a fuchsia parenthesis. "Are you sure you're okay? You seem a little off."

Swallowing against the lump in my throat, I shrug and turn toward the mirror affixed to the wall. "I'm not, like, afraid of public speaking," I tell my reflection, moving a wayward strand of hair away from my face. "I think it's just ... the fact that this won't be a crowd of random people. These people _know_ me. Well, the _me_ I allowed them to know back then. And I know _them_. They're not just faces in a crowd." My reflection stares back at me, eyes nearly black and peeled back with nerves.

 _No._

The voice rises from deep within. At first, it's faint, low but firm. But then it resurfaces, louder this time, stronger. The third iteration is deafening. It rattles my bones. It catches in my teeth, clenches my jaw.

 _No, I won't let this feeling own me._

Shoulders back, I take a deep, cleansing breath. And then I turn to Jess.

"You don't have to do this," Jess tells me, voice gone soft and soothing. Her palms slide up my arms, thumbs pressing gently into the muscles of my shoulders. "We can still cancel. They'll understand, I'm sure."

My resolve strengthens as the words leave her mouth.

"No," I repeat the words from my mind. "I'm not canceling. I need to do this. Not for them. For myself."

"Okay," Jess smiles, lovingly cupping my cheek before taking a step back. "You're the boss."

"I am," I chuckle, feeling my muscles slacken as a slow smile spreads across my face. "And I look damn good, too!"

"Damn good!" Jess parrots, pumping her fist excitedly. Then, after rolling her eyes, she sighs. "Okay, I don't think we can stall any longer."

"I know," I nod, squeezing the cards in my hands for reassurance.

"I'm ready."

* * *

 **A little glimpse into Bella's current mindset. Do you think she's ready to face the people from her childhood at the screening? How do you think will go? Would you cancel if you were her? Sound off in the comments.**

 **See you all Friday!**

 **xo**

 **j**


	55. Chapter 55

**Endless thanks to SunflowerFran (:**

 **man**

It doesn't feel real.

Not until the Uber pulls to a stop in front of the school. The driver is persons unknown this time.

I'm thankful.

Rooted to the sidewalk, I watch as people trickle by. It's mostly families and young people.

People I don't recognize.

The realization unglues my feet from the ground.

My feet move of their own accord. They follow slowly behind a couple of teenagers. Signs guide us to an auditorium I never had the pleasure of seeing before now. I was a student here for less than two weeks. I still can't believe so much happened in that little span of time.

The crowd is at its heaviest around the entrance. The PTSA is selling tickets on one side, snacks and beverages on the other. There's a sign advertising a raffle on the ticket counter. The prize is an autographed DVD.

Bella's autograph.

I buy my way in and three raffle tickets.

Pocketing the three pieces of blue cardboard, I make my way into the auditorium. No one looks twice as I pass through the entryway. No one looks up as I move through the aisles. I don't know what I expected, but I'm glad not to have to make small talk. That's not why I came here.

I came here for her.

Finding an empty seat near the front, I settle in. The people around me are unfamiliar. I take out my phone and pretend to scroll, in order to avoid conversation. I don't even see what I'm scrolling past. I'm too hyper-aware of my surroundings.

It's not until there's commotion in the aisle that I look up. The noise has increased exponentially. Whispers ripple across the auditorium. Exclamations of recognition ring out. My own throat constricts in surprise.

She remains unchanged – Brittany Murphy doppelgänger with long, wavy brown hair. Wide eyes set into a small face. Lips curling in a teasing smile.

Jess.

She trudges up the aisle, nodding in acknowledgment, but never stopping. Not until she reaches the seats marked 'reserved' in the front row. Sliding in, she tosses her hair over her shoulder before greeting those around her.

I can't help but watch her. I don't know what I'm looking for. It's as if I'm waiting for her to do something; turn in my direction, spot me, warn Bella, or have me thrown out.

Something like that.

But she doesn't. She stays planted in her seat, head nodding as she chats animatedly with the woman beside her. I don't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

A few minutes later, the lights dim and the curtains open. A spotlight appears on stage and a round woman steps into it from the wings.

"Welcome," she murmurs into the microphone, mouth pulled into a wide smile. "On behalf of our school and community, I thank you all for coming out to today's screening of _'Prey.'_ It's not every day that we have the pleasure of mixing with celebrities, let alone have one rise up from our humble community. Therefore, it is my pleasure to introduce to you our very own, Isabella Swan!"

My stomach does an uncomfortable dip at the brevity and impersonal nature of this woman's introduction. Not only has she blatantly disregarded the circumstances that led to Bella's infamy, but she's given the audience no indication of the nature of today's film. Obviously, the majority of the people here know what it's about. But, still, I've been to enough conferences to recognize an effective speaker introduction. And this was not one of them.

We're not off to a good start.

* * *

 **So so so so sorry for the delay in posting. RL has been crazy lately. Thank you so much for those of you that are still with me. We're nearing the end, so hang in there!**

 **xo**

 **j**


	56. Chapter 56

**Endless thanks to SunflowerFran (:**

 **woman**

The lights are blinding as I step on stage.

Clara – PTSA president and the woman who helped organize this screening – hands me the microphone with a constipated smile. She hasn't been very pleasant throughout this process. I have a sinking suspicion she wasn't all-too-willing to arrange this in the first place.

I try not to dwell on that too much as I face the audience.

The auditorium is packed, as anticipated. I'm not sure whether to feel flattered or like a science experiment under the microscope. If I'm being honest, I think it's a little bit of both.

I push those feelings aside and take a deep, cleansing breath. It's now or never. And I've spent far too much of my life silenced. Squaring my shoulders, I open my mouth and let the words tumble out.

"I was in the sixth grade when the abuse began at the hands of a trusted adult – my stepfather. At first, I preened under the attention. My own father passed away while I was still a baby, leaving my mother nearly lifeless. She did just enough to keep us alive ... but she was never actually _there_ – not the way she was before my father's death. That didn't change, even after she remarried. Needless to say, I ... _we_ – my brother and I – were attention-starved. This, combined with my mother's utter disregard, set up the perfect scenario for a predator."

The audience stares back at me in rapt attention as I finish the first part of my speech. Wetting my lips, I tighten my hands around the microphone and scan the front row for Jess. Her warm smile of encouragement gives me the strength to continue.

"For years, I lived under the same roof as my tormentor – my abuser. I endured his sick games at all hours, and found no relief or escape – except when I was here, under this roof, within these school grounds. Every aspect of my life was under his control, and I learned _very_ quickly that his form of punishment was much worse than what he forced on me on a daily basis. It became my normal. And, after some time, I even grew to love him."

As my voice echoes through the auditorium, there is a collective rustling of the audience. I was expecting that, but I wasn't expecting the sharp spike of disgust that pierces through my gut in response. As my eyes glide over the disturbed faces of those in attendance, a veil of shame presses down on me from above.

Panting through the unexpected emotions, I frantically shuffle through my mental notecards to find my spot within my speech, but come up short. Knuckles white with the grip I have on the microphone, I quickly locate Jess – my beacon of strength – within the crowd. She shifts uneasily in her seat when my eyes find her, most likely stuck between staying put and flying up on stage to rescue me.

I guess my discomfort shows plainly on my face. Maybe I should just ... quit while I'm ahead.

Just as that thought enters my mind, another one flares up to counter it. _No_ , it says, voice booming in the jittery cavern that is my mind. _You're stronger than this. You can do this._

Swallowing quickly, I clear my throat and continue. This time, though, it's unrehearsed and unfiltered.

It's raw.

It's me, talking to them – the people of my childhood.

"What most don't tell you about abuse is – it's confusing. We all know about the mechanics, the grooming, the hiding, the illegalities, and the countless people sent to jail for it. What we don't talk about is what it does to the victim. The victims. There is much more than physical pain associated with it. There's shame, confusion, guilt, fear, hopelessness – even pleasure. It leaves you all twisted up in knots, knowing it's so wrong, but fearing the consequences of telling someone. My abuser was arguably one of the most powerful men in town. The risks were plenty – insurmountable in my mind. I was a caged animal. I thought my only escape was through self-destruction."

Pausing, I brush my hair back and sigh. Self-comforting as I near the end of my speech. "I was wrong. Silence is not the answer. Self-destruction is not the only way out." Swallowing, I repeat the words from long ago. Words gifted to me by a desperate-eyed, wise-beyond-his-years teenage boy. _"If you talk, it will stop."_

At my proclamation, the crowd bursts into applause. Fighting back tears, I force a watery smile and continue. "We can no longer allow victims to suffer in silence. We must shine a light into the darkness. We must refuse to look away. We must refuse to be silenced. Most of all, we must realize that this is a _real_ issue. One in five girls and one in seven boys will be sexually abused before they are eighteen. This is happening in the United States. This is happening across the world. This is happening in _our_ community. Know the signs – look, listen, and – most importantly – if you suspect something, _tell_."

After another burst of applause, and my murmured thanks, the lights dim and the screen behind me comes to life. Brushing tears from my cheeks, I step into the wings and let out a shuddering sigh of relief.

I did it.

* * *

 **She did it! What did you guys think of her speech? What do you think E will think of it?**

 **You'll find out soon enough!**

 **xo**

 **j**


	57. Chapter 57

**man**

Her words echo through my mind as the lights dim, leaving me breathless.

" _If you talk, it will stop."_

Borrowed words. _My_ words. Her continued use of them sends a spike of hope through my body.

She remembers me.

Does this guarantee her receptiveness to my presence? I'd like to think so. But, still, a small part of me remains hesitant. After all this time ... she's _just now_ coming out of hiding. Sharing your story with strangers is drastically different than discussing it with people you know. She might not be ready to face someone that had a direct hand in writing her narrative.

Then again, she's here now. Talking to her former neighbors. Sharing her story with her hometown.

I won't know if I don't try.

Skin crawling with anxious energy, I shift in my seat and sigh. I'm not uninterested in the documentary. On the contrary, it's highly engaging. Yet, my mind continues to analyze the situation at hand. Being so close, yet still feeling so far away, is killing me.

I try to take and hold a deep breath to calm myself, but my heart still thrums behind my ribs. I'm just about to jump out of my seat when I see it. Movement in the front row.

Crouched low so as not to disturb the sightlines of the people behind them, a shadowed figure creeps into – and up – the aisle. I hold my breath as they pass, eyes struggling to focus in the dark, hoping to identify them. My breath expels from my lungs in a whoosh when I realize who it is.

Jess.

This is my perfect opportunity.

Standing rapidly, I apologize profusely to those around me as I blunder out into the aisle with graceless haste. Trudging quickly, I manage to catch up to Jess just as she reaches the lobby. It's eerily unoccupied and dead silent here – giving me the perfect amount of isolation for this unplanned confrontation.

Jess turns abruptly as her name leaves my lips. Her mouth puckers on her ageless face, eyes narrowing and brows drawing together as she tries to place who I am and – I'm sure – what I want.

"I know you," she murmurs uncertainly after a brief pause. "We went to school together, right?"

"Yes," I nod, hands clasping together nervously as I step closer. "I'm Edward Masen. I was Bella's neighbor ... my dad was –"

Jess abruptly cuts me off, arms crossing over her chest as she finishes my sentence. "Phil's campaign manager." Eyes narrowed to slits, Jess sizes me up as she continues. "Yes, I remember you. Mr. Overly Concerned. Wow – I _did not_ expect to see _you_ here."

"I ... yeah," I chuckle, at a loss for words. "I heard about this on the news. I felt compelled to come. To support her. After all this time ... it's the least I can do."

Jess' chin inclines as she peers at me thoughtfully. "I see."

"And I was also hoping –"

She cuts me off again, lips curling into a teasing smile. "To talk to her. I know. I can see it written all over your face. She's a different person now, but this is still hard on her. She'll need some time to recover before she faces another blast from the past."

"Oh," I blurt, frowning. "Okay ... well, I –"

Jess' eyes roll as she cuts me off again. "We're here for another couple of days. She'll be fine by tomorrow. I can text you a time and place to meet us. That is, if you'll still be here."

"Yes," I assert, heart pounding at the realization that its _finally_ going to happen. Closure, after all this time!

I barely remember reciting the digits to my cell number. Or giving a stilted 'see you later.' It's like I blinked and was suddenly transported back to my hotel room.

Sitting heavily onto my bed, I comb my fingers through my hair and sigh. So much pressure has been lifted by this turn of events, yet, a heaviness still rests inside of me. Heaviness that will not relent until I get this closure.

A buzzing on my nightstand draws my stomach into my ribs. Swallowing against the tightness in my throat, I cradle my phone between my palms as I unlock it. The notifications alert me to a new text. Navigating through the home screen, I hold my breath as I pull it up.

It's from an unknown number, and lists only two things: a time and place.

 _Starbucks. 10 a.m._

Holy shit.

It's really happening.

* * *

 **He spoke to Jess! How do you all think it went? Are you anxious for a BPOV now?**

 **See you all next Monday (:**

 **xo j**


	58. Chapter 58

**woman**

A deep breath expels from my lungs as Jess bursts into the lounge situated backstage. Grinning from ear to ear, she flops onto the couch beside me and wraps her arms around me excitedly.

"Oh, Bella, you were amazing!" Face pressed against my shoulder, she nuzzles me affectionately. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks." My hands crawl up to anchor her to me. "I can barely remember it. I think I blacked out."

"Well," Jess murmurs, sitting up and combing my hair away from my face. "You were absolutely incredible."

Heat pools in my cheeks at her compliment.

"I tried not to think about it ... but I was so worried about them hating me."

Jess' face falls at my words. "I know you were. But these are _our_ people. There's no way they could hate you."

"I see that now." I nod, rubbing at my forehead as a wave of exhaustion hits me. "Fuck, I'm dead."

"C'mon," Jess murmurs, standing and grasping me by the elbow. "Let's get you out of here."

Smiling weakly, I allow Jess to maneuver me out of the room. The coast is clear as we duck outside and comb through the parking lot for our rental car. Safely nestled into the passenger seat, I lay my head back and take a deep, cleansing breath.

It's not until we pull out onto the main road, with the silhouette of my high school crowding our rearview mirrors, that I feel a weight – which I hadn't even realized was there – lifted from my shoulders.

"Hey," Jess says suddenly as she takes a turn. "I, um, have to tell you something."

"Yeah?" Sitting up, I brush my hair back and turn to her.

"I ran into someone back there."

My stomach plummets at the uncertain look on her face.

"Who?"

"Edward Masen." Jess glances at me briefly to gauge my reaction before turning back to the road. "He wants to talk to you."

At the mention of his name, my brain supplies an image of his face. Youthful and passionate. Brows drawn low over bright, observant green eyes.

Beautiful.

"Did he say what he wanted to talk about?" My voice is a breathless whisper as Edward and I's last encounter plays over in my mind. I can see him clear as day standing on our front porch. The concern I saw in his eyes should have been comforting. Instead, it sent spikes of panic through my system.

For good reason.

Shit hit the fan very soon after that.

"No, and I didn't ask. I figured you'd be interested, though." Jess' lips curve into a soft smile as she pulls into the parking lot of our hotel. "Time has been _very_ good to him. He looks even better, if that's even possible."

"You know I don't care about that." My words come on the heels of a deep sigh. "When is he free?"

"Tomorrow."

Lip snagged between my teeth, I nod. "Okay." After a second of deliberation, I hold out my hand and demand, "Give me his number."

* * *

 **Hi all - I'm so sorry for the delay in posting. It is always hard to balance writing and RL when the school year begins again. I hope to have the next chapter up this week. In the meantime, how do we feel about B's reaction to hearing about E?**

 **xo**

 **j**


	59. Chapter 59

**woman**

"Starbucks, Bella? Really?"

"What? And you know somewhere better to meet? It's neutral territory." A frown scrunches up my face as I adamantly defend the venue I chose for Edward and I's reunion.

"Neutral, sure. But it's also pretty accessible to the public. Imagine being balls deep in your conversation with Edward and having Mike fucking Newton interrupt it." Puffing up her chest, she imitates Mike's teenage voice with scary accuracy. "Hey, Bella, uh, long time no see, am I right?"

"Fuck," I scowl. "Okay, I get it."

"It's not too late to change plans." Jess shrugs, leaning back in bed and turning her attention to the TV. "There's no way they can afford that house." She comments disgustedly before changing the channel.

Slapping my phone against my palm, I contemplate alternative venues. Somewhere public, like a restaurant, is out. I'm not interested in running into any other ex-classmates. And I'm _definitely_ not interested in being overheard by any of them either. Especially when I'm not sure how this reunion with Edward is going to go.

No, we need more privacy than a restaurant can afford. We need a lot of space and openness. A park, maybe?

I immediately think of Davis Beach. It's open and airy and oh, how I miss the beach! But with the memories of Davis Beach's soft white sand come sun-soaked flashes of my many exploits there. Jasper's feathery white hair hanging in the space between us. His sun browned hands pressing my wrists down into the towel beneath me. His nose sliding along mine, lips whispering an almost kiss.

My stomach twists with unease.

I was so lost back then. My actions were bipolar – trying to take control over my body, my sexuality, by giving it up to anyone that looked twice. Meanwhile, I wanted so desperately for Phil's sick control to continue.

No, not Davis Beach.

"What's that beach we used to go to with your mom all the time?" Jess tilts her head silently at my question, wrinkling her brow in thought.

"Cypress Point Park." She says after a moment.

"Thanks," I tell her, unlocking my phone and pulling up my text thread with Edward. We haven't said anything else to each other, other than confirm the details for tomorrow. That was a few hours ago.

 _Do you mind if we change locations for tomorrow? I think I'd prefer some place a little quieter._

Chewing the insides of my mouth, I glance at our hotel window and sigh. I hope he's still awake. The world outside is black as pitch.

I don't have to worry long, though, as his reply comes through quickly.

 _Sure. Just tell me where, and I'm there._

Scraping my teeth along my lower lip, I tap out my response and fall back against the pillows.

 _Cypress Point Park._

* * *

 **Hmm, change of plans. What do you think about this? Was Jess right about Starbucks? How do you hope their meeting goes?**

 **Chapter 60 will be up on Wednesday!**

 **xo**

 **j**


	60. Chapter 60

**man**

Cypress Point Park.

This will be my first visit. I'm so nervous that I arrive 30 minutes early. With a gut twisted into knots, I kick up sand as I pace toward the beach.

I have no idea what to expect today. So far, Bella and I's text correspondence has been stilted. I can only hope for an improvement in the in-person conversation.

Hands tucked securely in my pockets, I stop at the water's edge. Lips pursed, I take a deep breath as I observe the foamy slosh of the waves against the sand. The slop of water is almost therapeutic. I feel the tension leave me in a deep sigh.

Bella was right to choose this place.

"It's nice, right?" The throaty voice that meets my ears is familiar, but startling nonetheless. "I'm sorry," she laughs as I recover with my palm over my rapidly beating heart.

"It's ok," I clear my throat, tilting my head toward her. She's not looking back. I take advantage of her inattention and allow slide my eyes over her delicate profile, unchanged in the years we've spent apart. She is as achingly beautiful as she was as a teenager. Even more so now, with that haunted darkness absent from her eyes.

Her hair whips around her head in the wind, glowing silver in the morning light. It's just as blond as it was when we first met, but shorter now. Much shorter. She wears it in a choppy, punk-looking 'do, stopping just above her collarbones. I like it. It suits her.

"You look the same." I point out the obvious. I blame it on her stunning ability to render me speechless. Not much has changed there.

"As do you." She murmurs, tearing her gaze from the shoreline in front of us to give me a brief once-over. "Except you dress better now."

"Hm," I chuckle, shoving my fingers through my hair. "I don't think I was _that_ bad back then."

"Mmm," she hums, lips curling up into a small smile. "You were hopeless. Good thing you were cute."

"You think I'm cute?" The smile that spreads across my face refuses to be suppressed.

"I said that you _were_ cute." She deadpans, voice steely serious.

"Oh," I murmur, humor completely wiped from my face and voice.

The silence between us stretches.

Wrapping my arms around my middle, I curl my shoulders inward to keep from touching her. The waves continue to slosh, filling the gap in sound that our silence creates.

This is awkward.

Her sudden snort of laughter tugs my gaze from the glinting sun. Her face is tilted up toward me, eyes squinting with laughter. Her nose wrinkles just a little, on the bridge.

She's gorgeous.

"I'm just fucking with you," she giggles, nudging my shoulder with a playful fist. "You really haven't changed much, have you? Still just as serious as ever."

"Right," I nod, fighting a smile. I want to tell her how much she's changed. How there is no more darkness hiding within the depths of her eyes. How beautiful she looks with a smile stretching her face. How much she looks like her brother, with deep dimples forming in her cheeks.

I just smile and laugh, tracing her face with my eyes and savoring the image.

"You wanted to talk to me about something," she says after a moment, her face sobering slightly.

"Um, yeah," I murmur, digging the toe of my shoe into the sand. "I just wanted to tell you, in person, how sorry I am for what happened."

"Don't," she says, voice impassioned. "Don't apologize. It's not your fault. If anything, I should be the one apologizing. I was horrible to you when all you were trying to do was help. I wish I could have seen that then. Maybe we could have been friends?"

"I ... yeah," I nod, completely thrown by her interjection. "I just wish I could have been there for you after it all went down. After, um, the police were involved. I know you say it's not my fault, but I truly do feel somewhat responsible. It was fucked up for me to get involved and then disappear when times truly got hard for you."

"Nonsense." She waves my comment away with a flip of her hand. "You were a kid. What were you going to do? Run away? What good would that have done? If anything, it would have made things more dramatic. Although I see where you're coming from – and I do agree that it would have been nice to have your support, especially for Riley and the twins – I think everything worked out for the best."

"How are they?" The question bursts forth without my permission, making clear my extreme interest in this subject. "I'm sorry, I know it's a bit intrusive of me to ask."

"No, no – you're fine. They're good," she smiles. "The twins are in high school now. Freshmen."

"Holy shit," I murmur in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? They were babies, like, yesterday!"

"I know," she sighs wistfully. "They grew up fast."

"And Riley?"

* * *

 **Who else wants to know about Riley? What do we think about their reunion so far?**

 **See you all next week!**

 **xo**

 **j**


	61. Chapter 61

**This is it! I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for their continued support. It's been a long, bumpy, painful ride! That being said, enjoy (:**

 **woman**

His grin is infectious as he stares down at me. This is going way better than I expected it to. Then again, I wasn't sure what to expect. Now that I know that he just wanted to apologize and catch up, I'm feeling a lot lighter than I was earlier today.

I woke up feeling anxious as hell this morning. But, after enduring an hour-long pep talk from Jess, I was able to leave our hotel feeling confident. That confidence carried me to the beach and pushed me to walk right up to him without thinking twice.

When he turned to face me, my stomach shot up into my throat. In the eight years since I'd seen him last, he's grown even more attractive – if that's possible. The thinning of his face with age only served to highlight his high cheekbones. The dusting of facial hair on his cheeks and jaw added a ruggedness to his otherworldly handsome features. His hair was longer than he'd worn it in high school – messier.

And those eyes.

So, so, so, so green!

"And Riley?"

My smile deepens at his question. Instantly, my mind conjures the image of Riley's smiling face. We've come a long way from the quarreling pair we'd been eight years ago. I mentally thank my therapist for that every day.

"He's good, too." I murmur, stuffing my hands into my back pockets. "He lives in San Francisco, with the twins. He teaches Geometry and coaches baseball at their high school."

"A teacher? Really?" Edward's face is incredulous as he peers down at me. He seems to mull it over as I let out an amused laugh.

"Weird, right?" I shrug, "He's actually really great at it. The kids love him." That's an understatement. He's a school favorite.

"Hm," He murmurs, brows drawing together in thought. " _That_ I don't doubt."

After a moment of comfortable silence, he wets his lips and then opens his mouth to speak. "And your mom? How is she?"

My smile falls as the words leave his mouth. Arms now firmly crossed over my chest, I drop one shoulder in a shrug. "We don't really talk much." I admit, lip trapped between my teeth. "She's been in and out of rehab since Phil committed suicide. She, um, blames me for it all. Needless to say, our relationship is rather ... strained."

"Bella," He murmurs after a moment of tense silence. I can just picture the wheels spinning in his mind at all the information I've given him. "I'm so sorry ... that's ..." He stops short, mouth opening and closing several times. At a loss for what to say. I don't blame him. This is rough stuff.

"It sucks," I shrug again, leaning down to scoop up a handful of sand. "But I expected it. My mom was never the same after my biological father passed away. She numbed her feelings with pills and hid away in her room. Even after she remarried, things never changed. I think she thought Phil would help, somehow. But, he didn't. I think that's pretty clear now that the chips have fallen, and all that."

"Yeah," he nods, face stoic.

"I don't know why I'm unloading all of this on you." I sigh, tossing the handful of sand into the sloshing water. "I'm sorry. I'm sure this isn't what you came here for."

"No, no," he cries, turning to face me fully. "This is _exactly_ what I came here for. I just ... wanted to talk. I needed to know that you were okay ... that _everyone_ was okay. Like I said ... I felt responsible for all of this happening."

Warmth blooms in my chest at his admission. I can't help but feel overwhelmed by his sheer goodness. I've contemplated it at length over the years. Yet, faced with it in person, I am still amazed by it.

"I ..." I sigh, at a loss for words. "Thank you," I whisper, watching his face soften into a half smile.

"Honestly," he murmurs after a moment of comfortable silence, "I'm at a loss for words right now. I really didn't think I'd get a chance to see you again."

"Hmm," I hum in agreement. "Yeah, I definitely didn't expect this, either."

"But when I heard your interview ... and what you said yesterday on stage," he pauses, giving my shoulder the slightest nudge so that my eyes jump from the lapping waves to his soft eyes. "You used what I said to you eight years ago. You said it was your mantra. It felt like you were calling out to me."

Mulling over his admission, I drop my shoulders in a shrug and look away – his eyes laying me bare once again. "Yeah," I say slowly, heart thrumming as I tell my truth. "Maybe I was."

"Why?"

My throat constricts in a swallow as I stare out at the waves. "I think ..." I start, trailing off as my brain struggles to piece together the right words. "I think I needed this in order to truly move on. I can honestly say I've come to terms with everything that happened to me in the past. It took a while, and a lot of therapy, but I'm finally free. I've accepted it. I've owned it. I've moved beyond it. Well, all but one part ... you."

The sound of Edward's sharp intake of breath has me tearing my eyes away from the shoreline. His brow is wrinkled in confusion as he stares down at me. Lips parted, he breathes, "me?"

"Yeah," I swallow, continuing even though the confusion in his eyes makes me want to backtrack. "You might have only been part of my narrative for a short time, but your role was profound. You were the first person to see me. Like, _actually_ see the true me beyond the persona I was trying so hard to project. And you did something about it. You told Riley, and while some might see it as meddling, I am so grateful that you did that. You were instrumental in ending my suffering ... and when you just ... disappeared, I never got to tell you how sorry am I for ... everything. I was horrible and you _still_ were so kind. I didn't deserve it, but, nonetheless, I am so very thankful."

"I..." Edward murmurs, running his fingers through his wind-swept hair. "I don't know what to say. Is ... is that all you wanted? To apologize?"

"No," I let out a harsh breath, somewhere between a laugh and a cry. "I mean, I don't know. I think I need to sit down." Slumping in the sand, I sprawl my legs out in front of me and sigh.

After a moment, Edward drops gracefully down beside me.

"I think I understand you." He says slowly, cautiously.

"Yeah?" I ask, watching intently as the sand pushes out between the fingers I splay against the ground.

"My girlfriend broke up with me because of it."

"I don't think I understand." I say, peering at him curiously. He's looking away, into the shoreline. His profile is pensive, peaceful. He looks older now, more serious. I briefly wonder what he does for a living. Probably something astute. Lawyer, stock broker, management. I can see him wearing a suit, sitting behind a large, wooden desk.

"When she broke up with me, she told me that someone was holding me back from loving her. Loving anyone, really." He breathes deeply before turning to face me. "She told me this after seeing my reaction to your TV interview."

My breath hitches at his admission.

"That's not to say that I love you, _loved_ you. Just that ... subconsciously, I wasn't allowing myself to move on. So, um, I think I needed this, too." He punctuates his statement with a humorless chuckle.

We're both silent, then. Breathing. I try not to think about his shoulder pressed against mine. Or his sandy fingers worming through the earth until our hands are interlocked.

"Why me?" I ask after a moment.

"What?" His head tilts curiously, long, dark lashes lifting to reveal brilliant, curious green.

"Why did you decide to help me, of all people?"

He stares back at me for a moment, brows drawn together in thought. "You know," he says finally. "I never really cared too deeply about anything, other than baseball, before I met you. But, you have the most expressive eyes. And when I got close enough to see them – _truly_ see them – I was alarmed by the raw pain I found there. Selfishly, I wanted to be the one to take it all away."

"A hero," I chuckle, rolling my eyes. "How cute."

"No," he smirks, one side of his mouth lifting higher than the other. "A kid."

"Maybe," I nod, fisting sand in my unoccupied hand. His fingers are still there, tangled within my grasp. "Not anymore."

"No," he breathes, lifting our joined hands and bumping them against my bent knee. "A friend, though. If you'll let me?"

"Of course," I smile.

After all, he's the piece I've been missing these past eight years.

 **\- The End -**

* * *

 **What did you guys think?**

 **Happy? Disappointed? I know they didn't get married, have 10 kids, and ride off into the sunset together, but I'm sure you all can tell that this isn't that type of story. Nevertheless, we end with a promise of friendship and a spark of attraction on both ends (:**

 **Thank you so much for reading! I hope that you will favorite/follow so that you can keep an eye out for anything that I post in the future. Hint, hint: new stuff coming soon. Very soon. Like this week soon. Annnnd, it's fully written so it'll be posting once a day until I mark it complete.** **Very exciting (: Also, I'm going to start updating the very much anticipated continuation of Infatuation, my entry for the Secrets & Lies contest. Even more exciting (: **

**Until next time!**

 **xo**

 **j**


End file.
